One Last Chance
by TreeOfReading
Summary: Harry and Hermione are sent back from the Battle of Hogwarts to their first year to craft a better future. Time travel, Soul Bond, HHr, possible Weasley Bashing. Rated M for violence and later content.
1. Goodbye, Voldemort

_Well I've never been talented with AN's so... On with the disclaimer!_

**DISCLAIMER: Do I look like J.K. Rowling?**

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><p>"No," Harry whispered. "No, no, NO!" With a cry of anguish, the raven-haired wizard threw his wand to the ground and a pulse of pure unconstrained magic exploded out of the man, sending the dark-cloaked figures around him flying away and landing on the hard earth quite a distance away with a sickening crack.<p>

Tears flooded his eyes and he knelt down and brushed the brunette strands of hair away from the face of his motionless best friend. Tears streaming down his face, the cold and stiff features of the body lying beside him brought back painful memories of his second year. Closing the eyes of the brightest witch of her generation, for the first time in a long time, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, knelt down and cried.

"Have I finally broken you, Potter? Did you love the mudblood?" Harry looked up and wiped the tears away from his eyes, staring at the hideous form of You-Know-Who. "No matter. You will join her soon. You and all of your little friends." Voldemort twirled the Elder Wand in his fingers, walking slowly towards Harry.

Harry discreetly summoned his wand, and when Voldemort got close enough, the agonized boy shouted, "Avada Kedavra!" Surprised, Voldemort immediately conjured a wall of stone in front of him to block the killing curse, and the wall was blasted into pieces. Murmuring broke out around the duo, and Harry now noticed the onlookers that had gathered around to watch them duel, both students and Death Eaters.

The ugly snake-man only chuckled and began to taunt his opponent. "You really think you can best me? The wielder of Albus Dumbledore's wand, and more importantly, the Wand of Destiny? Yes boy, I took the wand from the old fool, and with me as its master, none can ever seek to stop me!" Harry's mind raced, making connections, thinking back, and fueled by adrenaline, he immediately arrived at a pivotal conclusion.

"You know what Moldyshorts?" Voldemort's eyes turned even redder. "I don't care. You may have the Deathstick, but you are not its master."

"Avada Kedavra!" The green bolt zoomed across the distance between them, but missed Harry by mere inches.

"Ha, you think to stop me, the Boy-Who-Lived? You are no immortal, Thomas. All of your horcruxes have been destroyed."

Enraged, Voldemort screamed, "Crucio!" but Harry just ducked under the sickly yellow beam.

"You cannot hope to kill me, Riddle. For Albus Dumbledore was disarmed by Draco Malfoy. I beat Draco Malfoy. I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named raised his wand, but it instantly flew out of his grip and into his enemy's hands. "Goodbye, Voldemort. Avada Kedavra." Paralyzed by fear, the beam struck Voldemort directly in his chest and he crumpled to the ground, dead at last.

"You slimy bastard!" Harry turned around, only to be met by flying spittle and a red face.

"Ron-"

"Don't 'Ron' me. You had everything. The money, the fame, but no, you had to go and get the girl too. And what was with the killing curse? I always knew you were a dark wizard."

"Ron, just listen," Harry had knelt back down to be beside Hermione.

"No! I am done listening! AVADA KEDAV-"

The Weasley was knocked back by an explosion of golden light and a loud rushing sound. Dumbledore's Army watched helplessly as the second member of the Golden Trio was killed. Looking back to Harry, many fainted at the sight.

All that was left of the Boy-Who-Lived and the brightest witch of her generation was a smoking crater.

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><p><strong>AN: So… I hope you liked it! Please review and include any suggestions or comments you might have. I also promise longer chapters later on.<strong>


	2. What is it with Angels?

**AN: Another one of these blasted ANs to write. I suck at these. As well as summaries. Writing in general.**** Towards the 4,000 word mark, the chapter starts to stray towards more… adult topics. Also, sorry if Hermione's internal debates get a little confusing. The ending of the chapter is also quite odd. I don't know, it just popped into my mind. **

With a flash of light, the duo landed in an elaborate office, directly into two chairs behind a mahogany desk. The air was tainted with the faint scent of coffee. Jumping up, Harry immediately reached in his pocket for his wand, only to find there was none. Spinning around, he checked the room for any occupants, and his eyes landed on his bushy-haired friend. "Hermione!"

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione got up and rushed into the arms of the wizard in front of her, burying her head into his neck and inhaling that unique scent of broom-polish, musk, and some other smell that she could only define as pure 'Harry-ness'. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed, her voice muffled. "I couldn't dive out of the way of the spell fast enough."

"Shh," Harry whispered. "I thought I had lost you for sure." Wrapping his arms around Hermione, he unconsciously began playing with her hair.

Reluctantly disentangling herself from him, she began to survey their surroundings. "Harry, where are we? How did we get here?"

The wizard shrugged nonchalantly, as if there wasn't anything wrong. "All I remember was that there was a flash of golden light, and then we ended up here." Scrunching up her forehead, she began to think. "It couldn't have been a portkey, because you would have felt it. Then someone must have used some other kind of magical transportation. Speaking of which, how did I go from dead to un-dead?"

"Isn't the correct term 'not dead'?" Hermione extended her arm and punched him on the arm.

"Prat." Rubbing his arm, Harry got up and turned around, only to find a rather drab door that he had apparently missed. Reaching for the doorknob, he grasped it and turned before Hermione's shouted warning even had time to register in his mind.

A cacophony of noise streamed in, and Harry and Hermione watched from inside the mysterious room various people were led down the hallway. The PA speaker on the wall was constantly being spoken through by an ethereal and feminine voice, and Harry couldn't help but listen in.

'_Death Angel 2492954, Alexander Gray, please report to room 15788842525, your clients have arrived.'_ Looking around the door and at the shiny plate tacked on to it, Harry's eyes widened. Room 15788842525.

"Harry," Hermione said as she tugged on his shirt.

Turning around, he seemed dazed as he mumbled out, "Hermione, I don't-" Then he noticed the figure, clad in a suit and tie, sitting in front of the desk.

His lips drawn very thinly, the middle-aged man spoke. "How nice of you to finally pay attention, Mr. Potter. Please close the door."

Surprised that the man had appeared so quickly, he complied with his demand.

The man's blue eyes shone with intelligence, and his brown hair was all over the place.

"I'm Alex Gray, Death Angel." Harry nodded numbly and plopped down into the open seat, still quite out of it.

"What's a Death Angel?" Hermione asked, curious.

"Erm…" Obviously he did not get asked this often. "I guess you could call it a guidance counselor. We watch over our client's, or in your case, clients' lives."

"Why were we grouped together?"

The Death Angel's eyebrows shot up. "Why, I think that should be obvious! You're Soul Bound!"

"What?" Harry and Hermione both had their faces scrunched up, trying to figure out what the man in front of them had said.

"Wow. Hermione confused. I'd never thought I'd see it." Harry felt a sharp pain in his injured arm and now could not move it.

"Only Harry Potter would be able to joke about his own death."

Alex leaned forward in his swivel chair and snapped his fingers, their attention immediately returning to him. "If we can return to the task at hand," he remarked, noting Hermione's obvious blush. Clapping sharply, a five foot thick manila folder popped into existence directly above the desk and dropped, the desk shuddering from its weight. Opening it up and flipping the large stack of papers over, he began to glance through them.

"What's in there?" Harry actually seemed mildly interested.

"It happens to be the cumulative folder for you two. All clients have one, and only higher personnel have access to them. I am only privy to some of the files, but I get to read through all of it upon your deaths. It contains all of your actions, anything pertaining to you two, and any information deemed relevant by the Creator."

"The Creator? Who's that?" Hermione looked ready to smack Harry on the head.

"For the person who defeated Voldemort, you can be quite dull." Harry's face turned bright red, and he started sputtering. "The Creator is the deity that created the Universe. He dictates the Plan to his angels, and the Archangels carry out what is written down."

Hermione was absorbed all of this, and hung on every word that the Death Angel uttered. "Now that I hope I've covered any questions you may have," Alex stared pointedly at Harry, daring him to ask anything. "Let's get on with your life review."

"What's tha-"

"Don't even think about it finishing that sentence." Flipping through some pages, the man finally decided to stop on what seemed to be an elaborately decorated piece of parchment. "Ah, here we are, Harry's birth certificate. We'll start with his life first, then move on to Hermione's."

Pulling out a rather nondescript wand that was a deep chocolate color, Harry couldn't help but remember something. "Hey, what happened to my wand?" Hermione immediately searched her pocket for her wand, to find that it was missing, along with her beaded bag.

"Clients aren't allowed to bring anything into the building. You're just lucky we let you keep your clothes on. You'll be able to get your stuff later at Item Holding." Hermione and Harry's cheeks turned faintly pink, and they turned slowly towards each other, only to look away so quickly that Alex thought one of them was going to get whiplash. Holding the stick, he tapped it twice on the parchment and intoned, "Nomen Revelio." The parchment glowed bright blue, before fading and showing its contents. "Ah, here we are, the start of your life, Harry. Let's see, Born July 31, 1980, to James Potter and Lily Evans Potter. Your official name is Harry James Evans Potter Gryffindor Hufflepuff Slytherin Emyrs. Also, your godfather, Sirius Black, left the Black title to you, so you could always just slap that on to the back if you wish." Harry was left scratching the back of his head, and Hermione was stunned. "Harry, you didn't tell me you were the heir to Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and," Hermione paused for a moment. "Who's this Emyrs person? It sounds familiar, but I can't seem to think of anyone.

"Myrddin Emyrs, whom you might also know as Merlin Ambrosius, was the advisor to Arthur Pendragon himself, and a mage. I'm surprised you didn't know that, Hermione." Hermione's face became even more red, and she started spluttering out of anger and exasperation.

"Well, you know… I knew, I mean, the name is, well, err…" Harry placed a hand on her arm to try and calm her, and an electrifying shock tingled at the point of contact, causing them to jerk their chairs even farther away from each other.

The other occupant of the room just chuckled at their antics. "You know, after being married for seven years, I would have though you guys would be able to at least touch your partner."

"WHAT?" Hermione eyebrows were hidden in her hair, while Harry jaw was on the floor.

"You didn't know you were married?" Alex seemed genuinely surprised, as well as a bit confused.

"No, how could we?" Hermione retained her ability to speak, the other human was still winching his jaw up from the floor.

"You were supposed to be delivered your Marriage Certificate the day after your marriage."

"Well when was that?" Hermione was not fuming as Harry expected, but merely seemed surprised, and even possibly relieved.

'_Why in bloody hell would she be happy that we're married? Unless… No, Hermione could have bloke_ _in England, why would she choose a freak like me? Still…'_ Harry was brought out of his musings by a frantic hand waving in front of his face. "Wha?"

"If you could pay attention to what I'm saying, and not stare at your wife, that would be delightful, Mr. Potter." The angel was holding another piece of parchment, this one glistening in the light of the light bulbs in the ceiling. "Your marriage certificate." Studying it, he read the text. "Harry Evans Potter Gryffindor Slytherin Emyrs was married to Hermione Jane Ravenclaw Granger on October 31st, 1991."

"Halloween of 1991? That's when-" Harry searched back in his memories.

"That's when you saved me from the troll." Hermione nodded.

"Yes, that was apparently when your Soul Bond was fully activated, although interestingly, you never showed any sign of using the abilities of those that are Soul Bound possess. Before, I just thought you didn't want to use them, but now I'm not so sure…" Alex's voice trailed off at the end of the sentence.

"What abilities?" Hermione was in literal and figural heaven as she contemplated the possibilities of other skills she could use.

"Upon the culmination of a Soul Bond, you receive a large boost in magic, you gain the ability to talk to each other telepathically, you are able to view what the other is sensing, you gain the ability to use Legilimency, and you develop powerful Occlumency shields if used properly, to say the least."

Hermione had a goofy smile plastered directly onto her face, which unnerved Harry slightly. "How come we never got any of these abilities?"

Alex thought for a moment. "I suppose if you never recognized that you loved each other, that would interfere with the bond." Alex looked in the book on his desk. "Although, interestingly, I have you marked down as having your bond completed, which is only when two bond-mates kiss and recognize they love each other." Alex appeared puzzled.

"What about the marriage part of the Soul Bond? How does that come about?

"The marriage is just a formality. When the Soul Bond is created, you're destined to be with each other." Alex waved his hand dismissively.

"But what about me and Ginny?" Harry's shouting startled Hermione out of her reverie, and she almost looked hurt.

"Who? Could you describe her?"

"She's a Weasley, she has red hair, freckles, she's-"

"Oh! The love potion girl!"

"WHAT?"

Hermione's hands were curled into fists, and her nails began digging into her own flesh. _'How dare anybody try a love potion on MY Harry! When she dies, I'll kill her again! When did he become my Harry? Does he even like me at all?'_ "Wait, I don't understand." Alex began mentally banging his head on the desk. "She dosed me with love potions?"

"Yes. Her and her brother were dosing you two with Amortentia."

"I don't believe you!" Harry now stood with his hands on the desk, attempting to look menacing.

Alex did nothing, merely opening one of the drawers in the desk and pulling out a bowl of bright candies. "Gumdrop?"

"No I don't want a bloody gumdrop! How dare you accuse my friends of dosing me with love potions?" Alex just shrugged and plopped one of the colored candies in his mouth. Hermione looked on worriedly as Harry continued to rant.

"If you weren't a Death Angel, I'd… I'd…" Hermione slowly got up and placed her hand on the small of Harry's back, shivering as the same spark she'd felt earlier vibrate up her arm and down to more _sensitive_ regions. Slowly, the anger seemed to ebb out of his stance.

"Harry," she whispered into his ear, not noticing the faint blush that'd appeared on his face. "Maybe you should listen to what he has to say." Nodding, he got off the desk and made his way back to his eat.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Nodding to Hermione, he began to elaborate. "Think about it. In your sixth year, directly after Slughorn introduces Amortentia to the class, you begin to develop a keen interest in our little Ms Weasley. And you, Hermione, feeling left out, also begin to think about Ronald, dismissing your feelings as loneliness." Harry looked ready to argue, but Alex interrupted him. "Harry, what is needed to key the Amortentia to a person?"

"Uh, a strand of hair, I believe." Alex nodded.

"And what did you smell in the Amortentia in Slughorn's class?" Harry's forehead wrinkled as he thought.

"Treacle tarts… a broomstick, and-" His face paled quickly ."Ginny Weasley's hair." Alex looked sorry for Harry and offered him the bowl of gumdrops again, Harry taking a fistful and stuffing them into his mouth.

"I don't think I have to explain to you, Hermione." She shook her head quickly.

"Now, onto another subject, the prophecy."

Hermione objected. "I never actually heard the prophecy."

Alex flipped through the pages of the folder. "Here it is." He paused to clear his throat. _"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.…"_

_"What a load of rubbish!" Harry jumped out of his skin. "I can't believe that Dumbledore even thought that the prophecy even specifically mentioned Harry! This 'Dark Lord 'could be some Australian Dark Wizard for all we know!" The Death Angel looked startled, then his expression immediately changed to one of a thoughtful nature._

_"Yes, I suppose I never thought of it that way. _Ah, the next one is a fun one. Your dealings with Albus Dumbledore. Frankly, I'm surprised you didn't notice earlier that he was basically treating you like mushrooms. He kept you in the dark, and he fed you cow dung."

Harry stood up. "Albus Dumbledore was the greatest wizard of the century, and I will not have you insulting him!"

"Would a great wizard allow Sirius to die still being hunted, while he was the Chief Mugwump of the Wizengamot? Would he continue to force you to stay at your relatives' when the Potter Will stated that you were NOT to go there?" Harry sat back down, for once questioning Dumbledore's actions. "The day that your parents died, Dumbledore called an Emergency Session of the Wizengamot. He not only declared himself your magical guardian, but he issued an arrest warrant for Sirius, even though he himself was the one who cast the Fidelius on your parents' house. He also immediately sealed your parents' will, for reasons unknown."

"That bastard!" Alex was surprised that Hermione would be the one to use such coarse language.

"A complete listing of the atrocities committed by Albus Dumbledore is available to you at your request." Harry nodded, while Hermione was still gripping the armrests of her chair, her knuckles white.

"Moving onto the Weasleys. Most of them were good people, with the exception of a couple." Alex eyed the couple.

"Molly hoped that if you fell in love with Ginny, she could gain access to the Potter fortunes. Pairing Hermione with Ron was just to get her out of the way and for her to be a good housewife for him." There were now dents in Hermione's chair.

"After that, hmm…" Alex scratched his chin as he skimmed through the pages. "Ah! Neville Longbottom!"

"What? But Neville didn't do anything bad!" Harry was quick to defend what seemed to be one of his true friends.

"No, he didn't do anything bad. But that doesn't mean others didn't do bad things to him." Hermione raised her eyebrow, her grip slowly lessening on her chair. "After binding your magical cores-"

"WHAT?" Alex held up a finger to silence Hermione.

"As I was saying, after he bound your cores, to make sure that Harry would stay meek and pliable after his discovery of the prophecy, he bound Neville's core as well; reducing him to an almost squib level, He thought that if you ever found out about the prophecy, having you on the same level as Neville would send you to him, begging for help."

Hermione was enraged, while Harry just looked confused. "What does a core binding do?"

Alex looked ready to strangle himself, but settled for slapping his forehead. "If a wizard or witch's core is bound, it restricts their magical ability. Normally your core grows, just as your body does, but if it is bound, it isn't allowed to grow any bigger than it is at the time of binding. Dumbledore immediately bound your core after your parents' deaths, and after seeing the relationship with Hermione, he bound her core during her second year, when she was petrified." Hermione gasped.

"But was bound when he was one, how come he's still such a powerful wizard?"

"Harry was destined to become an extremely powerful mage, and when his core was fully developed, he would have had a rating on the scale used to measure magical power of…" Alex flipped through the files and tapped his finger on one of the pages. "300." Hermione turned white.

"But that's impossible! Nobody's broken the hundred mark in hundreds of years!" Alex chuckled.

"That's because they didn't have the spell to measure cores when Merlin and the lot were around." Alex snapped his fingers and a piece of parchment appeared in front of them. "Let's see here, hmm, Merlin topped out at a solid 284."

"Bloody hell!" Alex laughed.

"Yes, that saying seems adequate. But you must remember, the numbers on the scale increase exponentially." Hermione turned even whiter, if that was even possible.

"What does that mean?" Harry was back to being confused.

Hermione was a little light-headed, but still managed to answer. "It means that every number is ten times larger than the previous. Your magical core is 100000000000000000 times more powerful than Merlin's."

"Bloody hell!"

"Moving on." Alex flipped a large chunk of the folder over. "Draco Malfoy."

"I knew it! That git's been on our backs ever since first year! What did he do?"

Alex actually looked down for a moment. "He didn't do anything. You actually did something to him."

"Harry Potter!" Harry was left gaping like a fish out of water. "What did you do to that poor boy?"

"Poor boy? He tortured you!" Harry turned towards Alex. "You have got to be kidding me."

Alex chuckled again. "Actually, no. Draco could have been a powerful ally, but when your _friend_ Ron insulted him on the train ride, he decided that he would crush you."

"But, but," Harry tried to find something to accuse Draco of.

"Had you accepted Draco's offer of friendship, he could have become a great friend." Harry still gaping, Alex moved on. "Let's see, filler, filler, more filler, plot-hole… ah!" Alex snapped his fingers. "Your inheritance, Harry."

"What inheritance?"

Alex was getting used to Harry's cluelessness. "Had you actually talked to Gringotts about whatever gold you may have acquired from your parents, you would have found some very interesting items." He turned to Hermione. "As well as you. Since you had read so much about Gringotts, I was surprised when you didn't ask for an inheritance test to be performed when you went to Gringotts." He spoke to both of them. "Had either of you found out about what great wealth was in store for you, your lives would have certainly been changed. As Harry is the heir to Potter, Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Black, and Emyrs, he would have gained an excess of 8 billion Galleons." Hermione nearly fainted. "Of course, that's not counting the jewelry, books, property, and other assets inherited. Harry's total liquid assets would have been approximately 15 billion Galleons." Hermione's hand moved across to Harry's chair for support, but once she touched his hand, she immediately drew it back again. "Hermione is the heir to Ravenclaw, and as such, she would inherit all of Rowena Ravenclaw's possessions."

"I'm seriously the heir to Ravenclaw? I thought you were just having me on!"

"Yes. At the time of your death, the Ravenclaw Vaults totaled at 88 million Galleons." Hermione seriously considered blacking out. "The liquid assets totaled at 154 million Galleons."

"I feel faint." Harry stretched his arm across the space between them, trying to support Hermione. Invisible flames jumped across the point of contact, and Harry quickly drew his hands back and hunched over, attempting to cover the sudden bulge in his jeans, unnoticed by Hermione. "How many quid is one Galleon?"

"Eight." Hermione slumped over, fortunately not collapsing out of her seat.

"Hermione!" Harry rushed over to her, holding her head up and trying to detect any movement. He turned to Alex. "Don't' just sit there! Do something!" Alex raised his eyebrow and clapped his hands. Immediately a vial of a sickly blue potion appeared on a glistening silver platter. The Death Angel took the vial from the platter, and held it out to Harry.

"This happens often here." Uncorking the vial, Harry wrinkled his nose at the rancid smell of onions and dirty socks. Tilting up her head, Harry pinched her nose shut and poured the contents of the glass down into her mouth, and then began to massage her throat, trying to get her to swallow. Hermione's eyes fluttered.

"Harry? What happened?" Hermione then held up her hand to her forehead. "Ow, okay, I remember. Harry, can you move away from me a bit? Your wand is poking me." Harry turned beet red, and he rushed back to his seat.

"Um, I don't have my wand." Alex tried to stifle his laughing.

"Then what was tha-" Hermione abruptly turned the same shade as Harry, both out of embarrassment and pleasure at being able to elicit such a reaction from Harry.

"Okay! Strike while the iron is hot and all that. Your Soul Bond."

Hermione was quick to ask questions. "You mentioned it before, but you never talked about what it was."

"A Soul Bond is literally the Creator's decree that two people are meant to be with each other. While it doesn't force the two people to love each other, they have to feel the deepest type of love possible for the Soul Bond to take hold, as it did with you two." Harry and Hermione looked awkwardly at each other. "I'll give you two a moment," he said, smirking. There was a wheezing, groaning noise and then the Death Angel faded out of view.

They both opened their mouths and spoke at the same time. "I-" They blushed. Harry gestured for Hermione to go first.

"It's really awkward saying this but-" Harry snorted. Glaring, Hermione continued on. "I've had a crush on you since the first time we met." Harry choked on air.

"Really?" Hermione nodded, looking down. "But, why would you like me? I'm just some skinny, messy-haired freak!"

"Don't you ever call yourself that! If anyone should be putting themselves down, it should be me! I'm just a silly little, mousy-haired bookworm!" Hermione quieted down. "I always thought to myself, why would Harry want me when he could have someone like Cho, or Ginny, or-" Harry silenced her by wrapping his arm around her waist and crashing his lips to hers. This kiss was slow, and deliberate, and Harry tried to convey his feeling for the witch next to him in this one action. Harry expected her to pull away, but she melted into his embrace, and seven years of suppressed feelings came bubbling out. Moaning, Hermione forced Harry's lips apart and began exploring it with her tongue. Surprised, but delighted, Harry pressed her ever closer. After two minutes, they finally separated for air, only to continue their passionate embrace. Unconsciously, Hermione began to move her pelvis, grinding her hips against Harry, and her legs brushed his _sensitive_ region. His eyes shot open, and he began to ravage her mouth even more, his hands tracing patterns on her back. Powered by lust, Hermione forced Harry away momentarily and ripped his already torn shirt apart, and then began to trail kisses up and down his chest. Shivering at the touch of every single kiss, he gasped as she began to make her way lower. Hermione got on her knees and began to undo his belt buckle. "I've been waiting seven fucking years for this," she growled, and practically whipped his belt off, throwing it to the side and directly into the multiple frames that lined the wall of Alex's office, shattering multiple. Hermione was just about to undo the button on Harry's pants when there was a sharp crack, and two people popped into the room.

"I'm telling you Christina, there's no way I'll allow them to be sent back! And besides, they aren't up to anything bad in my office!" Alex's face was red, and his suit was ruffled, while his tie was carelessly slug around his neck.

"They're hormonal teenagers! Who knows what they're-" They both turned at the same time. "Oh. Hello."

Harry and Hermione both blushed and staggered away from each other, Alex turned beet red, and Christina just turned and smirked at the Death Angel. "I told you so!" And she grabbed his suit and they popped away again.

Hermione lowered her head in shame. _'Harry must think I'm some kind of slut! Why did I just do that? You enjoyed it, didn't you? Yeah, but…'_

"Bloody hell Hermione, only you can be sexy when you're practically molesting someone." Her head shot up and Hermione started spluttering.

"You, I, we, and then, but… they-" Harry held up a finger.

"You don't know how many times I've dreamed about what we just did." Harry blushed and looked down.

"You dreamt about me?" Hermione was hesitant to believe him. Still red, Harry nodded. "Well, how about we fulfill some more of those fantasies, Mr. Potter?" Hermione whispered huskily into his ear. Startled, it only took a second for Hermione to grab Harry's face and mash his lips against hers. Unlike their previous one, this kiss as filled with unfulfilled desires, and Harry growled as lust for Hermione overtook him.

Pulling away, Harry's whispered into her ear, "If this isn't love, I don't know what is."

"Who gave you permission to talk, Potter?" Hermione demanded, and she grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his head back to meet hers. There was another popping sound, and the same two from last time appeared in the room again.

"God! Can't you two ever stop? I'm giving you two minutes, and by then, my office should be fixed, and Harry should be wearing a shirt again!" Violet, Alex looked ready to explode, while his companion was clutching her sides from laughing.

"Well Mr. Potter," Hermione wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "I suppose some people don't appreciate our displaying of affection in public." Standing up and dusting herself off, Hermione made her way to Alex's desk where he had left his wand and waved it around. The shattered glass from the floor rose up into its previous position, and Harry's belt flew back onto his pants, buckling itself. Looking back at Harry, Hermione took in his bare chest and torso. Obviously, running around in forests and dodging spells was a workout, because his chest muscles were easily visible, and he had a nice six-pack, if a bit pale. Sighing, Hermione waved the stick again, and the remnants of Harry's tattered shirt flew back onto his body and stitched themselves together. Hermione put down the foreign and slowly walked back to her chair, swaying her hips from side to side and wishing that she had chosen to wear a skirt for the battle. Just as Harry clambered back into his seat, Alex popped back into the office, followed by a louder crack that signified the arrival of his female companion.

"Harry, Hermione," he said gruffly. "This is the head of the British Department of Deathly Affairs, Christina Blake."

The young woman curtsied briefly, her brown hair glistening. "I was, _amused_, by your antics earlier. Which has nothing to do with the fact that you won me twenty quid." Hermione suddenly became aware of the events that had occurred in the office mere moments earlier.

'_I can't believe I did that! Harry liked it. But, that's just because he's a boy! What would he do if Cho tried that with him? Well, he probably try to stun her or something… Did he stun you? No…'_

"Christina here has a proposition for you two, since you are such a… special case." Alex nodded towards the woman.

"The Creator has agreed to speak with you and consider the possibility of sending you back in time, since right now, the timeline's sort of, how you say, _'fucked up'_." Christina grimaced at the phrase.

"How so?" Hermione was anxious to find out what had happened to their friends.

Christina clapped her hands, and a bronze-haired man appeared in front of them, and he immediately knelt down, his black clothes and skin seeming to radiate light. "What do you require, my Lady?" She waved her hand dismissively, and gestured for the man to stand up.

"Now Jared, I've already told you not to kneel. It gives a bad impression." The man stood immediately.

"Yes, my Lady." His hair was immaculate, and if one looked closely, they could see the faint outlines of a halo hovering above his head.

Christina glared at him. "Quit it."

"Quit what, my Lady?"

"Argh! Just go and fetch me The Book." The woman obviously did not like to be referred to as such.

"Of course, my Lady. I live to serve." The man flashed away in a golden light, a split-second before the woman clawed at the area where his neck used to be.

"I swear, he drives me insane." Alex merely looked amused.

"He follows your every command like a puppy dog. It's adorable." The Death Angel chuckled. "I swear, if you told him to lie down and strip naked, he'd do it." The woman slapped a hand her face.

"Blasted angels and their stupid perfectness." The angel appeared again, holding a thick ledger. He knelt down and held it up to Christina, his head down. She snatched the book from him and he stood back up again.

"I await my Lady's command." She waved her hand at him, and he faded out of view.

"Go to my office, Jared."

"Of course, my Lady." Apparently invisible, the angel flashed away.

"I begged and pleaded with the Creator to have another angel assigned, but all of them are worse than him. The lesser of two evils, I suppose." She shrugged. "At least he's hot."

Alex snorted. "Yeah."

Christina eyed him. "Better than you."

Harry's eye twitched. "Hello? What happened to everybody we left behind?" The woman nodded.

"Right." Looking at the gigantic tome in front of her, she placed her palm on the front of the leather cover ad pushed, exuding her magic into the book. It suddenly snapped open, pages whipping forward until it arrived at the last. "Here we are. Let's see…" The head of the department moved her finger down an unseen column, until arriving at a particular line. "Neville Longbottom is killed by the Killing Curse moments after your deaths, Draco Malfoy flings himself off the Astronomy Tower, Luna Lovegood is crushed by a Giant, George Weasley kills himself with the Killing Curse, Ginny goes on a maniac spree, destroying everything in a 50 foot radius, including her, hmm… Minerva McGonagall is killed by Bellatrix Lestrange, Molly Weasley is killed by a falling brick…" Christina tapped her chin in thought, oblivious to the anguished looks on the faces of Harry and Hermione. "Filius Flitwick actually survived the battle," Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, "but is then executed under the Mixed-Race Act passed by Minister Macnair," only for it to be sucked back in. The woman looked up. "Do I need to continue?" Both Harry and Hermione frantically shook their heads. "Well then, I suppose we should go now, seeing as it's almost time for the appointment."

"You set an appointment?" Alex seemed enraged again.

"Of course! I knew this would happen." She answered smugly, pointing to the book. She clapped her hands, and Jared appeared almost immediately, not kneeling, but bowing.

"Yes, my Lady?" She gestured for him to take the book. "Of course, my Lady." The angel touched the book and flashed away again. Christina immediately stood up.

"Okay! We're off!" Only to be knocked over when the angel reappeared in the room in the same spot he was in earlier. Tumbling forward, she landed on Jared, her limbs flailing around. Crushed, her assistant still managed to talk.

"Are you okay, my Lady?" There was no answer. Pushing her up, he saw that she was knocked out. Alex was trying hard to keep himself from shaking as he held out a blue vial to the angel, while using his other hand to hold his side. The angel immediately poured the contents of the vial down the unconscious woman's throat and knelt over her head, waiting for her to come to. Slowly she began to move, still drowsy, and her eyes fluttered open.

"Mmm, Jared, why can't you sleep with me?" Surprised, Alex was now beating the floor with his hands, and rolling around.

"Of course, my Lady." Her eyes shot open.

"WHAT?"

Hermione nudged Harry, who was currently not in much of a better state than Alex. "Freudian slip. I think it's a side effect of the potion. It actually should last a little longer."

"I said, my Lady, of course. If it is what one desires." The angel kept an impassive face.

Christina smiled wickedly. Her conscious mind was still being suppressed. "Jared, get to my room and get ready for the fucking of your life. I have some business to tend to first." The angel almost smiled, but quickly regained his composure.

"Of course, my Lady." And the man flashed away. Christina slowly got up, her legs wobbly. She turned towards Harry and Hermione. "The Creator is on the 1157th floor, the lift is all the way at the end of the hallway. Now if you'll excuse me, I have an indeterminate amount of time in bed with a hot guy who'll do whatever I want." And there was a distinct cracking noise, and she was gone.

"That was, _odd._" Alex and Hermione looked at Harry as if he were an idiot.

"I suppose we should be going." Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him out the door, leaving only Alex. Almost immediately a thumping noise came from the ceiling.

Alex smacked his head. "I can't believe I forgot that her bedroom is directly above my office." He waved his wand at the ceiling, but the noise just grew even louder. "Great. They'll probably be humping for days."

Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione were trying to navigate past the rush of people that were stampeding in the opposite direction that they were going. "Why don't we just apparate?" Hermione shouted to Harry over the noise. Seeing a nod, Hermione immediately turned, visualizing the end of the hallway that was in plain sight. With a soft popping sound, Harry felt the sensation of being squeezed through a hose again, but it was slower than usual. Looking around, he quickly figured out why.

"Eew, we're apparating through people!" He tried to talk, but his lips wouldn't move far enough to get any sound out. Finally, after a couple minutes, they reached the end of the hallway, directly in front of a muggle elevator. Slapping the button, there was a dinging noise and the doors slid open, and in the blink of an eye Harry pulled Hermione inside and punched the 'Close Door' button.

"That reminds me," Hermione remarked. "I'll have to ask the Creator about how all this technology works around magic." Harry wasn't paying any attention, just trying to find the button that read 1157. Slowly making his way down the list, Hermione pointed it out for him.

"Oh! It's just the floor above us!" Pushing the button, the lift rocketed up, only to abruptly stop after traveling ten feet, sending Harry and Hermione crashing into the metal ceiling. "Ow." They quickly succumbed to the pull of gravity again, and tumbled to the floor. "That reminds me of the carts at Gringotts." Thoroughly annoyed with the elevator, Hermione dragged Harry out of the lift and into the empty hallway, which would have been silent if it were not for distinct noises coming from one of the rooms. Harry quickly twisted out of Hermione's grasp and ran across the room, fearing some kind of fight. Pressing his ear against the wooden door, he could make out loud voices.

"Oh Jared! Harder!" Harry instantly backed away from the door and realized that the golden plate on the door proclaimed, "Christina Blake, Private Quarters." Hermione tugged him towards the end of the hallway, pointing to the large golden door.

"Looks like the potion still hasn't worn off." Arriving at the end of the corridor, Harry could plainly read the onyx words embedded in the solid gold door. _'The Creator. Appointment Only.'_

Hermione stretched out her hand to knock, before she was interrupted by a loud booming voice. "**Come in.**" Hermione jumped, and the door swung open, revealing a handsome man in his twenties sitting at a desk. "Hello, my name is Edmund, and you two are in a whole lot of trouble."

**AN: I know, not the best chapter, but I tried. Also, if anybody could be a beta-reader, that'd be great as well. I have no idea what came over me with the last couple thousand words. Review!**


	3. Donuts

**AN: (Hey, I'm getting better at these!) This chapter might be a little short, seeing as there isn't much you can stuff into a simple conversation, and it's only been a day, but I'll try to prolong it. Reply to review from: 'The Hermit' : While I took your review in stride, I felt a need to respond, as you so eloquently pointed out the 'supposed' holes in my writing. I did not err in not placing the correct speaker tag at the end of a quotation, there is no speaker tag evident. In your example: **_**'"But that's impossible! Nobody's broken the hundred mark in hundreds of years!"**_** Alex chuckled' 'chuckled' is not the word denoting a speaker tag, but is rather the verb in a separate clause. I assumed that the readers of this fanfiction would be able to determine who was saying what. On the topic of Draco being able to be redeemed: '**_**One other thing that stopped me in my tracks was the totally stupid idea that Malfoy could be a good guy. I hate it when prats write this type of character change, which ends up with Draco being some unknown character that the writer just did not have the intelligence to find a name for. Draco Malfoy is the bad boy Draco Malfoy because of his character, change his character and you no longer have Draco Malfoy. Wake up and put your head right.' **_**I was insulted by your rather rude assumption of not only the integrity of Draco Malfoy's character, but that all fanfiction must follow a standard that closely adheres to canon. Personally, I think that canon is flawed, and that's the reason why FanFiction exists. Response to : 'YOUR FAULTY LOGIC': **_**i dont like the whole draco thing i feel that draco should always be an ** theres what happens at madom malkins where he is nasty about houses at hogwarts too what he says about neville at the broom part in first book and what about the chamber of secrets the ron incident wouldnt change someone into a huge bigoted ** in less than two years you know when he shouts out "you'll be next mudbloods" so basically if you make draco good based on what you put I will have to stop reading as you used what is to me but maybe not everybody faulty logic**_**'. After stumbling through your error-riddled review (though I appreciate the effort to try to correct me) I would say 'to hell with canon'. FanFiction isn't about following what J.K. Rowling has written, and for you to say that I have to is rather arrogant and small-minded. I will continue with my plans for Draco Malfoy, and if you can't appreciate that, then I'm sorry, but I won't be bemoaning the loss of one reader. To all the other readers that reviewed, I sincerely want to thank you for the glowing praise that I received, which as of 8:08 EST on 6/8/11, is a total of 39 reviews. I'm sorry I don't get to list the individual reviewers, but I'm afraid people really don't want to read a 1000 word long AN. I do read all of my reviews though, and I'll probably make a list of the reviews I gotten when I finish this fic. Special thanks to Redwoodx for his excellent suggestion, monbade, LeahHeartsTomRiddle, Cassandra30, and Anime Princess. **

Staggering into their seats, Hermione noted the collection of books that lined the office walls, were scattered on the floor, and lay in piles on Edmund's desk. "Why are we in trouble?" Edmund clasped his hands together on his desk and faced the couple.

"Why wouldn't you be in trouble? You have absolutely no training, you're seventeen, and you're about to be sent back to 1991, where an undead spirit is plotting to regain his body and kill you, and a bearded man is plotting to deliver one of you into his hands." When the Creator put it that way, Harry could see the predicament they had gotten themselves in. "I'm going to try to rush through this, since I'm, a busy man and I still have eight-hundred thousand years of events left to plan out until I finally get to retire. Now, I have to get you two to sign the Time-Travel Agreement Form." The man snapped his fingers, and nothing happened. Confused, the Creator snapped his fingers again, until he slapped his forehead. "Oh yeah, I sent Dougal out for donuts." Pulling a ledger out from one of the drawers in the desk, he flipped it open to a page and looked over it. "Ah, here we go." His eyes glowed and he snapped his fingers, calling out, "Jared." Hermione looked over at Harry.

"Uh oh." Irritated that nobody was coming, the Creator's hands started glowing, and as he opened his mouth and an unearthly voice boomed, "**Jared!**" There was a loud whooshing noise, and both Jared and Christina appeared, fortunately clutching a sheet.

"My master!" the angel attempted to kneel and cover himself at the same time, resulting in an odd twisting motion. Christina's slightly confused expression of ecstasy quickly tuned to one of horror.

"Edmund, I'm so sorr, I mean, the potion, and…" Christina attempted to wrap the sheet around her as tightly as possible, which also pulled Jared to her, leaving the flustered duo tangled on the floor.

"Agh! Fuck this. Clarice!" A blonde-haired woman in her twenties materialized in the office, her hair pulled tightly into a bun.

She curtsied immediately and bowed her head. "I live to serve." Then the rest of the room registered in her mind. Her cheeks turned pink, pink, and she managed to stutter out, "J-jared." The angel managed to get up while still clutching his lover close to him.

"Clarice." There was no mistaking the pure malice contained in his voice, and coupled with the glare that he sent her way, it even had Edmund flinching for a moment. "I still haven't forgotten what you tried last time." The angel blushed again.

"But Jared, I love you!" She fell to her knees and attempted to make her way over to the enrobed couple, only for them to flash away. "No!" She sobbed. "Not again." Edmund rubbed his temples.

"Why does this always have to happen when I have important meetings?" There was another flash of light, and a fair-haired angel popped into the room, clutching an orange and white box.

"I have returned with the donuts, master." Edmund rubbed his hands together and gestured for Alice to go away. There was no indication that she recognized his command, but after a brief pause, she began to melt through the floor. Dougal set the box on the desk, stepped back, and disappeared.

"Sir?" Harry asked as the Creator pulled out a large jelly-filled chocolate donut.

"Yesh?" Hermione bit her lip trying not to laugh.

"Why are Jared and Clarice, so…" Harry attempted to think of a proper word. "Weird?" Edward raised his eyebrow, and then choked on his donut.

"Oh! I remember now! About a hundred years ago, I had the brilliant idea of pairing an angel with another to make them happier, since they can't experience any emotions." The Creator smiled, thinking back, and then frowned. "Unfortunately, I had to create the spell to bind them from scratch, which was a variant of the Soul Bond charm. The first two angels I tested it on were Jared and Clarice. When I performed the spell, something went… awry, to say the least." The man shuddered. "There was an explosion halfway through the ritual, and the second spell went wayward and hit Ms. Blake, who was assisting me at the time. Luckily they were all knocked unconscious by the explosion, or I would have had a bloody mess on my hands. I revived them and told them that the spell had failed, and I sent them on their own way." He laughed. "Then something went wrong again. A few days later, I found out the bond between Jared and Christina had taken hold, and so I was forced to make him her assistant to disguise his blinding loyalty to her. I wish it was over then." The Creator shook his head. "Clarice had found out about the results of the ritual and somehow convinced herself that she loved Jared. She attempted to destroy Christina and nearly killed Jared in the process. I had to demote Clarice from her position as my personal assistant and send her to the head of the American Department of Deathly Affairs, which is 800 floors higher than this. I also placed a very mild version of the charm upon Christina, keyed to Jared, and to this day, I still have not told them."

Hermione was aghast. "That's no better than Amortentia!" The Creator shook his head.

"You misunderstand me. The charm merely makes the target compatible with the other target, gives them a helpful _push,_ and on angels, gives them the capability to feel emotions." Edmund talked slowly, stressing every syllable.

Hermione crossed her arms and mumbled, "I'm still uneasy."

"Now, if there are no more interruptions," he said, glaring at the universe in general. "Dougal, go fetch me the Time-Travel Agreement Form," he commanded, turning around.

"There are none left, master. Would you like it duplicated by magic, or by a copy machine?"

The man scratched his head. "A copy machine, I think. Make sure it's extra warm." The angel was just about to pop away when Edmund gestured for him to stop. Standing up and leaning towards Dougal's ear, he whispered, "Run off a couple of those. Hold them." The angel nodded and disappeared. He turned towards the couple. "Donuts?"

Hermione shook her head, and Harry just said, "Yes." They looked at each other. "No thank you." While Hermione tentatively nodded.

The Creator shrugged. "More for me then." The angel reappeared in the room, clutching a large packet. "Here we are!" The man took the packet, and immediately frowned. "This is cold, Dougal. I told you to have it extra warm."

The angel bowed. "My apologies, master." The Creator jut sighed and pulled a golden rod out, and tapping it on the large packet of papers, bookmarks appeared.

"Sign here, initial here, sign here, print your name here, date of birth here, thumbprint here, strand of hair here, drop of blood here, initial here, here, here, and magical core analysis here." Harry shook his head, as if that would help him understand.

"What?" The Creator sighed.

"On page 8, you sign your name, on page 22, you initial, on page 35, you sign again, then you print your name on page 72, then your write your date of birth on page 97, then on page 143, you place your thumbprint, on page 185, you place a strand of your hair, you place a drop of your blood on page 251, you initial on pages 268, 305, and 322, then on page 328 you press your hand to the page for a magical core analysis." Harry still looked confused. "Look, it's a simple 12-point identification system. You're lucky you aren't applying to be sent back before your births, or it would require a 50-point system." Hermione, as usual, had questions.

"How will you know who's information is who's?" The Creator laughed.

"Your names are different, your initials are both HJP, your date of birth is already registered in the Archives, Harry's thumbprint should be slightly larger than yours, your hair is longer than his, your blood can easily be identified by a simple spell, and your magical cores are melded together, one and the same, so what does it matter?"

Hermione was surprised. "Our magical cores are melded?" The Creator looked scandalized.

"Of course! You can't have a Soul Bond without sharing magical cores! Everything would be so complicated! I'd have to cast the charms on both of you, and then go through all this paperwork, and then fill out these forms…" he shuddered. "It's much more easy when you just have your magical cores bound together from the start, when I know you're going to be Soul Bound. Of course, you still show up as having different magical cores and magical signatures, but your cores are linked together, and you two are able to draw energy from each other. Not to mention that it saves me work! All I have to do is cast the spells on one of you, and it affects both of you!"

"So what's the measure of our magical cores together?" The Creator cast a spell and it struck Harry, who automatically reached for his pocket, only to realize he didn't have a wand, and the spell seemed to be absorbed, before being emitted out and striking Hermione, before it dissipated and a glowing number appeared above both of them.

"Ooh, 450. Last couple to score that high, was… hmm." Grabbing the thick leather-bound book he'd left on his desk, he flipped to a different page and wire-rimmed glasses appeared on his face as he skimmed down. Lily Evans and… oh." The Creator looked worried. "Dougal!" The angel flashed into the room and Edmund frantically whispered into his ear, and the angel appeared surprised.

"At once, master." And the angel flashed away.

"What was that?" Harry demanded. "What was with my mum and my dad?"

The Creator tried to smile. "Nothing of consequence. Any other questions, Hermione?" It was a desperate ploy to change the topic, and it worked.

"I was wondering, how did Harry get here? Didn't he didn't die?"

"Oh, that." He waved his hand dismissively. "I just needed to get Harry here. That the Weasley brat died was just a bonus." Edmund looked eager to steer the conversation away from the previous topic.

"I would like to know what's in that form, before signing it." The Creator looked flustered.

"Err…, I mean, well… sure, I guess." He handed the heavy papers to Hermione who immediately began reading. "In the meantime Harry, how would you like-"

"Done." Even Harry was surprised at the speed at which Hermione read.

"Okay, so are you ready to sign the forms?" The Creator glanced at his watch quickly, trying to mask it with a fake cough.

"Nope."

"What?" The Creator looked incensed.

"I noticed a loophole," Hermione said smugly. The Creator looked interested. "The contract states that we will be returned to the determined time of our choosing after we finish signing the document, correct?"

"Yes, but I don't see-"

"Everything else if fine, but I was thinking, if the document only activates when we sign it, can't we just hold off on the last signature and stay here for a while to train?" Edmund looked curious, and even a little excited.

"Of course! And you can train, and you can change this boring job into a fun one! I mean, change the world for the better!" Edmund was literally bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Yes! I have to get you to the Destiny Revision Ward immediately!" Even Harry looked excited.

"Edmund?"

"Yes, my boy?" The Creator was now dancing around the office.

"Do you think I could possibly meet my parents?" Harry seemed genuinely hopeful.

"Of course! This is a happy, happy day!" He grabbed Hermione by the shoulders and swung her around, and she was obviously feeling awkward. "Finally, some excitement!" Grabbing the two by their clothes he tugged them towards the door. "Let's go!"

**AN: I could not think of anything. Not a thing. If anyone has any ideas, please PM me, or put it in their review. What house should Harry and Hermione be sorted into when they return? (poll ends 6/15/11) Vote via review. Also, should I cut the training and skip to their return, or fill a chapter with details? (poll ends 6/11/11)**


	4. A Trip to Gringotts

**AN: I've finally decided what I'm going to do! I'll skip the training and occasionally have the characters think back about it. I might write a chapter or two about it when I'm finished with this fic. The results in the House poll are: Gryffindor: 2, Ravenclaw: 23, Slytherin:2, Hufflepuff: 2 By popular demand, Ravenclaw wins. And, exchange rate for Galleons is 1:20.**

"Hermione!" Harry's shouts were lost in the deafening howl of the time tunnel in front of them. Hermione's figure was already no more than a speck, barely visible in the awesome rip in the fabric of reality in front of the young wizard.

"You'll see us again, Harry." Harry wrapped his arms around his mother one last time, breathing in her scent. Stepping towards the swirling blue portal, he waved back at the forms of his father and his godfather, and with one last breath, stepped out of the realm of the dead.

The first coherent thought that Harry had was, _'Bloody hell.' _The second was, _'Weeeee!'_ The third, fortunately, was, _'I wonder what it's going to be like when I get back.' _The wizard was being flung around by the forceful winds that whipped around him. Snippets of noise managed to make their way to Harry's ears, and he watched in amazement as the walls of the tunnel around him flashed and began to show images from his life. He watched as a gigantic snake reared back, its fangs glistening, then as he first viewed the steam-belching Hogwarts Express. Harry felt the winds pick up, and looked ahead as he saw a blinding light at the end of the tunnel. He sincerely hoped it wasn't a train.

There was a sizzle, and Harry opened his eyes, and just about retched. Privet Drive was a mile below him, and he was flailing around as he began his fast descent. Number Four was coming up fast, and the boy fully expected that his Aunt would be cleaning up gore from the roof for days. He braced himself, only to pass straight through the ceiling and second floor. Harry opened his eyes just in time for him to slam into his ten-year old self. "Oww."

"Freak! Get up and cook breakfast!" Harry had not missed the shrill tones of his aunt, and it solidified his wishes to leave Privet Drive as soon as possible. "If I don't hear those eggs sizzling in two minutes, I'll let Dudley use his Smeltings stick on you!" Harry grimaced, remembering the knobbly stick that Dudley would parade around with. Thoroughly annoyed, Harry placed his hand on the door to his cupboard, and the door was blasted off his hinges.

The boy stepped out into the sun-lit house, where Petunia Dursley was standing wide-eyed in the kitchen, torn between shrieking at him or just shrieking. Now able to see, Harry's frown deepened when he saw his scrawny body. "Geez, I look horrible."

"Freak! You're going to pay for that!" Harry's uncle had just lumbered into the room, and the amount of open space left in the room became drastically smaller. "You good-for-nothing beggar! Just like your drunkard father!" Vernon was already turning a color that could only be seen and not described. Harry held up a finger, and his uncle's ravings became silence.

"Listen here Dursley, I'm leaving today, and if you tell anyone, I will personally come back and skin you alive before ripping your head off. Understood?" The fat man nodded, unable to say anything. "Good. Now what day is it?" Harry shook his head before flicking his wrist, and large fiery numbers appeared in the air. "Excellent." Harry immediately stepped out of the house, leaving his guardians with one last parting gift. "Obliviate!"

The whale of a man and his skinny wife were left dazed as Harry slammed the door just in time to hear his pig of a cousin stumble down the staircase and ask, "When are we going shopping for my birthday?" Harry Potter strode quickly down the steps of Number Four Privet Drive, taking care to step on the tulips and daisies that his aunt had so carefully cultivated. The second the skinny boy stepped over the property line, he spun on the spot, and with a soft pop, disappeared.

Meanwhile, in a magically guarded castle in Scotland, in a high up tower, in a large cluttered office, on a wooden desk, several large silver instruments began to emit large puffs of black smoke and spin around, before melting in a large puddle of metal. "Oh dear." The aged wizard sitting at the desk peered worriedly at the blob. The mage quickly vanished the mess and grabbed a long crooked stick from where it lay on the desk. "Expecto Patronum!" A ghostly phoenix in the center of the office, and Albus Dumbledore pointed his wand at it. "Nuntius. Severus Snape. Come at once. Potter has escaped." The phoenix flashed once, then disappeared in a vortex of white mist, while a soft trill pierced the room. "Shut up, you bloody bird!" The bearded man turned around to face the magnificent red and gold bird that sat on a golden perch in one corner of the office. The phoenix chirped mournfully. "Stuff it." The Headmaster of Hogwarts turned just in time for his fireplace to flash green, and a pale, greasy-haired man to walk out.

"You called, Headmaster?" The daunting figure's black robes billowed in a non-existent wind as he took a seat in front of the headmaster, his voice menacing, yet smooth as velvet.

"Yes Severus. It seems that little Harry has seen fit to run away again. Detain him as you did previously, then obliviate him." Dumbledore had taken a hard yellow candy from a glass bowl on his desk. "Lemon drop?"

"No thank you, Headmaster." Severus was wringing his hands anxiously and barely suppressing a feral grin.

"You are dismissed, Severus." The Potions Master nodded, and got up. He quickly strode over to the fireplace and threw in a handful of silvery powder from a pot above the fireplace.

"The Leaky Cauldron." And with one final robe billow, Severus Snape was gone, which left the Headmaster alone in his office, sucking on a lemon drop.

Harry Potter was violently deposited on Charing Cross Road, his insides still lurching from what felt like being squeezed through a rubber tube. Fortunately he had landed within the notice-me-not wards of the dingy magical pub, and none of the passers-by noticed him. Casting a wandless glamour charm, Harry looked at his hand, as if there was suddenly a parrot perched on his smallest finger. "Odd. That was easier than usual." Now sporting rather aristocratic features and brown-haired, Harry transfigured his blood-stained rags into robes and strode up the steps of the Leaky Cauldron.

Opening the door, the wizard was just about to step through when he noticed a greasy-haired Potions Professor dusting soot off his robes. Harry slammed the door and disillusioned himself, before stepping to the side. He only had to wait a few seconds before Snape stepped out, and precisely three seconds after he closed the door, Severus was unconscious, bound, shrunk, and in Harry's pocket. Confident that the git was secured, Harry opened the door and he contorted his face into a distraught visage. Not many paid attention to the ten-year old, so Harry meekly shuffled over to the bartender and put on his bet act. "M-mm-mister?" Tom immediately looked over to the small child.

"What can I do for you?" The man stopped chatting to one of his customers and looked down at Harry.

"I-I got lost. My parents are in Diagon Alley, b-but I haven't a wand." Harry barely managed to keep his childish façade from slipping.

"I'll help you through the barrier. What's your name, boy?" Tom stepped around and gestured for Harry to follow him, heading to the back entrance.

Harry panicked and spewed out the first thing he thought of. "Ronald McDonald." The bartender just nodded and opened the back door.

"Nice meeting you, Ronald." Drawing his wand, the man tapped the brick 3 up and 2 across from the trashcan. "I hope you find your parents." Tom gave Harry a shove, and stumbling, Harry entered the busy street, the entrance closing behind him.

Harry made his way through Diagon Alley, heading straight for Gringotts. With his disguise, the magical folk paid little attention to him, and so Harry quickly found himself in the main lobby of the wizarding bank. A brilliant chandelier hung from the high ceiling, and wizards and witches walked quickly across the marble floor, conversing with menacing looking creatures behind counters. Unsure of which goblin to approach, Harry smiled at a familiar face and made his way towards the first goblin he had ever met. "_Greetings Teller Griphook, may you trample your enemies underfoot and your vaults be filled to overflowing_." Harry grimaced at his mangled Gobbledegook, and wished Hermione was here with him. She had taken the time to perfect the Goblin language.

The goblin's eyebrows jumped up in surprise, and the nearby tellers looked towards Harry, still in his disguise, astonished. Such was Griphook's bewilderment, that there was a painfully long silence before he said anything. "My apologies, it has been many years since a wizard has shown such courtesies towards us." Harry waved his hand dismissively.

"I came here to have an inheritance ritual performed at the earliest convenience." Harry was careful of being respectfully polite, and was following Alex's instructions to the letter.

"Gringotts acknowledges your courteousness, Mr. Potter, and I will escort you personally." Harry gaped at the ease at which Griphook had seen through his disguise, and he had to break out into a light jog to keep up with the small goblin's pace. "Follow me." Griphook led Harry to the far back of the lobby, and in one corner was what seemed to be a slab of pure black rock. Reaching out a finger, Griphook traced a circle on the slab, which dissolved to reveal a passageway no higher than six feet. The goblin raced ahead, and Harry took special caution not to bump his head against the many stalactites jutting from the wet ceiling as he followed his goblin guide in the tunnel that was gently sloping downward. Stepping into the blackness only illuminated by torches hanging from the walls, Harry gasped as his disguise seemed to flicker for a few moments, and then faded. Not even glancing backward, the goblin called out, "Quickly Mr. Potter, my office is still quite a ways further."

Finally, after fifteen minutes of endless walking, a plain wooden door came into view, and Harry slowed down, only to realize Griphook had passed the door and was still walking. "Quickly! My office is the 32nd." Harry groaned.

Two hours later, Griphook was still speeding along, while Harry had been reduced to slowly trudging. Finally Griphook seemed to slow down, and to Harry relief, stopped in front of a rich brown wooden door. Reaching out a hand, Griphook placed his palm against the door, and the creaked open, revealing a normal sized office, with two chairs positioned before a small desk, with the stone floor a sharp contrast to the wooden paneling of the walls. Griphook easily slid behind the wooden desk and sat down, and Harry slumped down into his chair, exhausted. "Now what was it that you wished to have done, Mr. Potter?"

"I wished to have an inheritance ritual performed," he panted out. Griphook nodded.

"That's in the next room." Harry fought the urge to groan and simply stood up. "Sit down, Mr. Potter." Confused, Harry plopped down again. "The long walk you took to come here was merely a test of your effort. You have proven yourself worthy." Harry flashed through a multiple of emotions at one time, including relief, worry, surprise, before finally settling on anger at his Death Angel.

'_Stupid angel. I ask him, "I there anything else I should know about goblins for when I go to Gringotts?" And he just shakes his head.'_ Harry snorted. _'Figures.'_

While Harry was going on about the stupidity of Death Angels, Griphook had reached into a drawer in the desk and drawn out a stone bowl. The bowl was the size of a dinner plate, and intricate runes were engraved on the inside and outside. Harry noticed that if you stared at the runes, they wouldn't move, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see the runes moving around, changing shape and form. Setting the stone bowl on the table, Griphook drew out a small dagger, and Harry reared back, holding his arms in front of him. "Relax, Mr. Potter. The knife is for you to collect blood to place in the bowl." Griphook handed the dagger to Harry, and the wizard inspected it, noting the dragon hide covered handle and the flawless blade. Griphook reached into his desk one more time, drawing out a glowing violet potion. The goblin unstoppered the vial and allowed the fumes to waft to his nose, before pouring the potion into the bowl. "Take the dagger and slice your palm, then dump the blood into the bowl. The wound will heal quickly."

Harry nodded and gritted his teeth as he quickly slid the knife across his hand, drawing blood from both his palm and his lip. The black-haired boy allowed blood to pool, before turning it slightly and allowing the liquid to drip into the purple potion. He watched as the potion turned a golden color, before a searing pain made his teeth grind against each other. Staring at his hand, he watched in pain and wonder as the large wound slowly closed up. Griphook grunted quickly to get the boy's attention. "My apologies, Griphook."

"No apology is needed. I think you should look at this." Griphook quickly gestured towards the projected symbols above the bowl, before surreptitiously pressing a button on the underside of the desk. Harry didn't notice this small movement, scratching his head and attempting to figure out the multiple crests that glowed ethereally in the air. Seeing this, Griphook stood up and quickly and walked over to a stone bookcase in the office. He bent over and pulled a book from the bottom shelf, before striding back to his desk and gently placing the book on his desk. "Do you need assistance identifying the crests?" Harry's face flushed, and he nodded quickly. Griphook smiled, a rare occurrence, and he tapped the book with his finger. The cover flew open slammed against the desk forcefully, propelling it into the air with a sharp crack. To Harry's surprise, the book didn't fall, but stopped just before him, moving above the bowl. The pages of the book were a blur, moving back and forth, yet emanating from them was a faint blue light reminiscent of the moon.

Wide-eyed, Harry looked on as a bolt of gold and white was expulsed from the potion and slammed into the book, the tome absorbing it easily. The pages of the book seemed to slow, while the golden color of the potion faded and it returned to a neon purple color. Griphook calmly took the bowl and poured the potion back into a vial, while Harry was gaping at the sheer power of the potion. The air in the room was saturated in nearly tangible magic, raising the hairs on the back of Harry's neck. An eldritch wind had risen, whipping around the room, yet none of the papers strewn on Griphook's desk were disturbed. After a couple seconds, the wind died down and Harry watched as the book finally seemed to decide on a page, before shooting in front of Harry, nearly startling him out of his seat. "The book will tell you about the symbols you saw above the potion." Harry tentatively took the book, and it went limp in his hands. Looking at the open page, he decided to start at the top, as opposed to the bottom. A image of a ferocious golden lion, grasping a red sword. Harry looked underneath the crest and read the bold black lettering. 'Ancient and Noble House of Potter. Primary Heir by line.' Looking down, he saw numerous other images. Next was a golden griffin, clutching a sword in its talons and in flight. Underneath this was, 'Regal House of Gryffindor. Primary Heir by line.' "Regal?" Harry's teachings in the afterlife had not addressed this.

"Of course. Regal is in the title of any House present at the founding of the Wizard's Council. Any head of a Regal House earns the title of Duke." Griphook spoke as if lecturing a addlepated child.

"What is the title of the Head of House Potter?" Harry wrinkled his brow.

"Earl." Griphook pressed the button under his desk again, as if something had not already happened. Harry was not as distracted as before, and so he noticed the slight movement.

"Is something wrong?"

"No nothing is of the matter. I am merely itchy." Griphook attempted to disguise his motion as a scratch. Satisfied, Harry turned back toward the book. Looking further down, the next crest he noticed, was of a snake raised up and ready to strike. 'Regal House of Slytherin. Primary Heir by conquest.'

"How am I the heir of Slytherin?" Inwardly, Harry was fuming. _'Stupid Death Angel. "We'll prepare you for everything when you go back!" Yeah right. Not even a day back and that's been proven wrong._

"From birth, you were already the secondary heir. Your defeat of Tom Marvolo Riddle moved you to primary heir status."

"My mother was the secondary heir to Slytherin?" Surprised at this statement, Griphook raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Shaking his head, Harry looked down again, to see a brown badger, clutching a yellow cup. 'Regal House of Hufflepuff. Heir by magic.' "What does heir by magic mean?" Harry was going to kick Alex's arse the next time he saw him.

"Everyone has a different magical signature, a mix of your line's magic, your ancestor's magic, and their lines. The Slytherin House married into the Hufflepuff House eight generations ago." Harry nodded, still confused, and he continued reading. The next crest was a curving wooden staff and a purple hat, surrounded by a halo of white. 'Regal House of Emyrs. Primary Heir by blood." Thinking back to their first conversation, Harry was surprised to see more crests below.

"How many Houses am I the Primary Heir to, in total?"

"Eight." Harry felt like steam was going to blow out of his ears, while also wishing that his bond-mate was here. Harry looked below Emyrs, and was surprised at what he found. A pickaxe and a plow, sparks flying from them. 'Ancient and Noble House of Black. Primary Heir by blood.'

"How am I still the Primary Heir, if a lot of Black family members still exist?" Harry was secretly delighted that he could taunt Malfoy with his headship of the Black Family. _'Oh wait, I'm supposed to make friends with the ferret. Curses! Another dream foiled!'_

"Before his incarceration in Azkaban, he became the head of the Black Household for a short time. He disowned Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy, and named you as his successor. Because he is serving a life-sentence in Azkaban, the title passes to you."

"But he was never given a trial!" Harry blurted out.

Griphook raised an eyebrow. "We at Gringotts will look into the matter. For now, the Headship of the Black Household is still left to you."

"Great," Harry muttered. "Just what I needed. Another excuse for Ron to jealous of me." Shaking his head, he looked at the next family. A large silver S glittered at him, a snake entwined around it. 'The Noble House of Selwyn. Primary Heir by conquest.' "What is my relation to the House of Selwyn?"

"Ariana Slytherin married into the House of Selwyn, which was destroyed in the Goblin Rebellion of 1612. The possessions and title were absorbed into the House of Slytherin."

"If I remember correctly, wasn't the Goblin Rebellion of 1612 caused by someone refusing to pay their loan?"

"Yes." Griphook smiled, and for a brief moment, Harry could see glistening white teeth,, before he looked down at his papers, and Harry shivered. Looking at the last crest, Harry was shocked. A white flower stood out against a black background. 'Noble House of Evans. Primary Heir by blood.'

"How is Evans a house? My mother was muggleborn!"

"Lily Evans Potter was descended from a long line of squibs. The founder of the house was a recipient of the Order of Merlin, First Class, and so they earned their Noble title. They would be Ancient, but with such a distance of squibs separating the magic, that title was denied the House. Your mother never came in to claim her inheritance, other than Lady Potter, and so she never knew."

"Is it possible for me to be emancipated today?" Harry was anxious to be getting on with the plan that he and Hermione had laid out for the weeks after their return.

"The normal age of emancipation is 11-" Harry's face fell. "but Sirius Black left instructions stating that if you were not found to have been placed with suitable guardians, you were to be emancipated immediately. Do you have suitable guardians?"

Harry grimaced. "They gave me a tissue, and a whipping for my 10th birthday. It was my first present." The goblin face contorted and he made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snarl.

"Do you wish to press charges?" Harry shook his head. While it would be nice to see the Dursley's jailed, he didn't hate them enough to do it. "Very well." Griphook snapped his fingers, and the book, the bowl, and the potion suddenly disappeared, and a large scroll appeared in their place. "Sign this Mr. Potter, and you will be considered an adult." Harry eagerly took the scroll and the quill that was being offered to him, before he frowned.

"Is this a blood quill?"" Harry asked, inspecting the bright red feather.

"Yes Mr. Potter. Gringotts uses blood quills for important signatures, similar to the Ministry." Griphook stared at Harry. "Have you had experience with them before?"

"Er… I read about them in a book." Harry stammered. Griphook stared for another moment, then nodded, while Harry was suddenly glad that his Occlumency skills had carried over. Taking the quill, Harry gingerly wrote his name at the bottom of the parchment, and it disappeared immediately, along with the quill.

While Harry was distracted, Griphook pressed the button under his desk forcefully, before jabbing it with his finger multiple times. "I must go fetch your Family Rings, Mr. Potter." Standing up, Griphook made his way around the goblin-sized desk and out the door.

Harry waited for the goblin to return for five minutes, then resorted to fiddling his thumbs and thinking about Hermione. It was during a particularly _pleasant_ thought involving whipped cream and a whip, that a tall and imposing goblin burst into the room, shouting. "What is it Griphook? Your incessant calls interrupted my board mee-" It was then that the goblin noticed the small boy sitting in the chair, and that the goblin in question was not in the room. "Well, hello. What would your name be?"

"Harry Potter."

Surprise was written all over the goblin's face, and it was obvious he had not been expecting this. "And where is Griphook?"

"Getting my family rings." The goblin, dressed in ornate armor and clutching a spear, staggered to the side and leaned against the wall.

"Here you are Mr. Pott-" Griphook's face blanched as he noticed the goblin near the wall, muttering obscene phrases in Gobbledygook. He threw himself down and cried, "I am sorry, Director, I though you would want to speak to the client." Harry merely sat there watching, and could have done with a biscuit.

"Get up." Griphook clambered to his feet, still clutching the large wooden box he had come in with. "What gave you the idea that Mr. Potter would not be better off with his account manager?"

"Who is my account manager?" Harry had been apprised of this issue before, and was ready to execute one of the most cunning maneuvers to remove a goblin from power ever devised.

"Why, Hooknose of course. Did Griphook not tell you that?" The Director advanced on Griphook.

"Oh! You mean the goblin who was secretly squirrelling away all of my money and possessions that he could get his hands on to Dumbledore and the Weasleys?" Both goblins took a step back.

"What?"

"Could I have the Potter Account ledger please?" Griphook reached a hand into his shirt pocket and pulled out a book that expanded to the size of a large encyclopedia, and handed it to Harry.

The boy easily flipped through the pages until it was close to the end of the book, and he nodded. "Beginning on November 1st, 1981, there has been an unauthorized transfer of one-thousand galleons to the Weasley Account and the Dumbledore Account each, weekly. There were also numerous artifacts placed in Albus Dumbledore's care, which currently reside in Hogwarts." Harry looked up sharply at Griphook and the Director, who winced. "I want it all back, with interest." They both nodded quickly, and Griphook immediately began writing in a large tome pulled out of his pocket, and the Director approached Harry.

"My sincere apologies, Mr. Potter. We had no idea this was being done. It will be resolved immediately." Harry shook his head.

"I do not blame you, or any other goblin, except Hooknose. Also," Harry made deliberate ye contact. "I want you to call me Harry."

The goblin smiled at the gesture. "Then call me Ragnok, Harry. I am the Director of Gringotts, British Branch." The smile quickly turned into a frown, and Ragnok ran to the door and stuck his head out, before screaming, "HOOKNOSE!" The intense noise reverberated in Harry's ears, and he could feel the magic infused in Ragnok's voice. There was the sound of nails scrabbling against stone, and Harry's watched as a goblin almost as tall as Harry was dragged in by unseen hands and bound to a chair. The fury in Ragnok's eyes was unmistakable, and his voice was as smooth as velvet, yet as jarring as nails against a chalkboard. "Hooknose, you have broken the Goblin Code of Honor!" The booming noise vibrated against Harry's skin, and Griphook was still furiously scribbling away, while occasionally glancing at the ledger. "What do you plead?"

"Innocent!" The goblin was attempting to wriggle out of his bonds, but he could not.

"Wrong!" Ragnok snarled, and with one deft flick of his spear, Hooknose's head lay on the ground. Harry's was horrified, yet pleased, as Ragnok called in two more goblins to get rid of the mess. The Director bowed deeply to Harry. "We at Gringotts are immensely sorry. Is there anything we could do for you, Harry?" The boy immediately shook his head.

"Although I would like to see my Family Rings." Ragnok snapped his fingers and the wooden box jumped into Harry's lap from where it lay on the floor, and snapped open to reveal eight gold rings, bearing the images he had seen earlier. "How am I supposed to fit all of these on my hand?" He muttered.

"Place all of them on one finger," Ragnok instructed. Wary, Harry slid the Potter Ring on his right middle finger, and the lion roared for a second, before it shrunk to fit itself. "This ring has the added enchantment of allowing the wearer to view all magical auras when one wishes." Harry focused his eyes and gasped as everything in the room flared into color. Harry relaxed again, and the colors faded. Tentatively grasping the Gryffindor Ring, he slid it onto the same finger and watched amazement as the griffin cawed and the ring melted into the Potter Ring, becoming a griffin perched on the lion's shoulder, and the sword had disappeared from the griffin, while the lion's sword became larger. "That ring exudes a magical presence that compels others to want to follow your commands." Harry stared wide-eyed at the ring, and suddenly the combined ring disappeared, to be replaced by the Gryffindor ring. Releasing his focus on any ring in particular, it reverted to its combined state.

"Does every Family Ring have an enchantment?"

Ragnok thought for a moment. "Not every House, but certainly the powerful ones. They imbued their rings with the signature magic of their family." Harry nodded and moved on to the next ring. The snake on the Slytherin Ring hissed at him for a second, before wrapping itself around the lion. "The Slytherin Ring enhances the power of all potions you brew, while also giving you knowledge on most potions. Harry nodded and reached for the next ring. A golden badger stared up at him, and as he slid the ring onto his finger, it simply nodded as it disappeared and reappeared under the lion. "The Hufflepuff Ring grants the user immense healing powers, allowing them to heal most injuries wandlessly, and almost every injury with a wand." Harry had already moved to the next ring, the staff and the hat, and sniggered for a brief second as the hat appeared on the lion and the griffin clutched the staff. "The Emyrs Ring is a very powerful one. It grants the user magical prowess in all forms of magic. It doesn't mean you can do whatever, but it gives you the ability to be extremely good at all forms of sorcery." Harry was eager to grab the Black Ring, and gazed wistfully at the pickaxe and the plow as they appeared above the lion's head. "The Black Ring grants the user the ability to create and manipulate wards with ease." Harry lingered for just a second, before moving on to the Selwyn Ring. The snake hissed at him again, before entwining itself around the lion the direction opposite the Slytherin snake, so there were two snakes visible. "The Selwyn Ring grants protection from any mind magic, making you immune to the imperious, any potion intended to affect the mind, and Legilimency." Harry grinned. This would kill two birds with one stone. Finally Harry reached the Evans Ring, and watched as the flower appeared on the Lion's head. "The Evans Ring gives you the ability to converse with all animals." The box disappeared with a flash, and Ragnok smiled. "Congratulations, My Lord. You are now Lord Potter Gryffindor Slytherin Hufflepuff Emyrs Black Selwyn Evans."

Harry sighed. "I ask that you call me Harry."

"My apologies, Harry."

"I also wish to have a complete listing of my holdings." Ragnok merely clapped his hands, and a large scroll appeared in Harry's lap. Opening it, Harry saw that it was in many ways, like a touchscreen, being able to move the details up and down with his finger. Starting at the top, he started reading.

**As of June 1****st****, 1991, 4:05.**

**Potter Account:**

**165,156,142 Galleons**

**45,120 Sickles**

**8,901 Knuts**

**Potter Estate:**

**24,856 Books**

**12 Charmed Diamond Pendants**

**1 Staff**

**3 Swords**

**6 Sets of Rings**

**1 Locket**

**3 Fob Watches**

**8 Portkey Necklaces**

**1 Portkey Ring**

**2 Gold Rings**

**5 Silver Rings**

**4 Goblets**

**14 Portraits**

**1 House in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, England**

**1 Apartment in Bristol, England**

**1 Manor in [unplottable], England**

**1 Apartment in Diagon Alley, England**

**1 Cottage in Godric's Hollow, England**

**1 House in Hogsmeade, England**

**1 Villa in Bordeaux, France**

**1 Farm in [unplottable], United States**

**1 Potions Ingredients Farm in Casa de Franchis, Italy**

**Total Assets: 832,764,921 Galleons**

Harry stopped ready, dizzy already. "Ragnok, how much money do I have, in total?" The goblin a unknown number on his finger, and hesitated, before counting some more.

"2,851,457,963 Galleons." Harry merely nodded and handed the scroll back to Ragnok. "That is of fifteen minutes ago. From then, your estate has gained 900 Galleons. Over the past day, you have gained 86,400 Galleons, from interest, investments, the Potter Potions Farm, Potter Farm, Selwyn Potions Farm, Hufflepuff Greenhouses, and rent from Hogwarts."

"How much is the current rent for Hogwarts?" Harry was astounded that such a large castle could be rented.

"200 galleons monthly."

"And who is it rented out to?" Harry hoped it was Dumbledore.

"The Department of Magical Education at the Ministry of Magic."

"Who is the landlord?" Harry did not delight in others' misfortune, but he had to stick to the plan.

"The Head of the House of Gryffindor."

"Increase the monthly payment to 1000 galleons. When the loan is in default, just have the Ministry relinquish control of the Ministry. The new rent takes effect now." Ragnok nodded, and signaled towards Griphook, who just wrote faster. "Now how would one go about unbinding a magical core?" The silence swept through the room like an invisible shockwave, and even the frantic scratching of Griphook's quill was no longer heard.

"That is a serious crime My-… Harry. Do you know who has done this?"

"Albus Dumbledore." Griphook's quill began writing at a speed ten times faster than before, and Ragnok's face darkened.

"Do you know when the binding was done, my Lord?" Harry frowned at the end of the sentence.

"The day I got my scar." Ragnok's pleasant face twisted into a feral snarl.

"Do you wish to press charges?" This was said through clenched teeth, and Ragnok tensed, as if preparing to attack.

"Yes." Ragnok smiled toothily, a sign of bloodlust, and he waved a finger at Griphook.

"Empty the Dumbledore Account into the Potter Account. Make sure nothing is left." The other goblin simply nodded and continued scribbling. "Come with me, Harry. We must get your core unbound immediately." Even after being briefed on bindings by Hermione, Harry still didn't get what the big deal was, but considering the look on Ragnok's face, it was a big deal. Harry worriedly followed the tall goblin out the door.

**AN: It's not my fault it's been three weeks! I've been **_**preoccupied**_** for a while. As well as considering starting a new fic. Also, I can feel my grammar slipping in some places, as I type mostly in the mornings, when I'm still half-asleep, as I am right now, so if you could point any mistakes out in your reviews, I will not hesitate to correct them. Review!**


	5. An Embarrassing Predicament

**AN: As most of you know, I have a problem with updating the right chapters with the right documents. I thank you all for attempting to tell me, as without your reviews, I probably would have never realized. Also, don't hesitate to leave any suggestions in a review. I read all of my reviews as soon as possible, and so if you have a good idea, it'll likely be in the next chapter.**

To Harry's relief, the tense walk to wherever Ragnok was leading him was not nearly as long as the walk to Griphook's office was, and it was not long before Ragnok led him into a small chamber. Looking around, Harry only saw a stone dais in the center of an ordinary stone room, lit by flickering torches. "Wait here." Harry had barely turned around when he heard the door slam. Sighing, the gangly boy trotted over to the stone platform and no sooner had he sat down, than had Ragnok burst back into the room, accompanied by two other goblins, holding their swords menacingly. Seeing the swords, Harry looked around quickly, trying to find an exit. "Relax Mr. Potter. The Ministry does not allow us to wield wands, so we use swords."

Harry nodded slowly, keeping his guard up. "What are you going to do?"

Ragnok frowned. "Cores should not be bound for an excess of two months, as they cause a person's magic to become dangerously unstable. Removing them is difficult and hazardous, especially in cases like yours. The development period for magic is in your early years, and so your magical core should be tightly compressed with restrained magic. When we release it, it could unleash a magical backlash. Small, mind you." He motioned to the other goblins, and they quickly moved towards Harry, and the boy reluctantly let them restrain him to the platform. "You should also notice some minor physical changes, because magic plays a large part in keeping your body healthy and regulated." The two medics had clamped Harry arms to the dais, as well as fastening his feet. Ragnok suddenly looked guilty. "I forgot, the ritual has to be done with no clothes on."

"WHAT?" The goblin shifted his feet.

"There can't be any magical interference." The goblins had already begun taking Harry's shirt off, and he suddenly began to feel incredibly self-conscious. The goblins slid Harry's pants off, and he hoped that the stasis charm on the shrunken Snape in his pants pocket would hold. When they began to slide Harry's last remaining garment off, Ragnok looked away and called out, "I'll be waiting outside." There was the sound of a door closing, and Harry was naked, chained, and alone with two male goblins holding swords. The boy gulped and fought the urge to cover himself up. Harry still didn't like physical touches, having suffered from the fear of his Uncle, and in the Afterlife, refused to do what Hermione so eagerly pursued, but he had given out during the third year of their stay. _'It's always the bookworms that are the kinkiest,'_ Harry thought silently. Still, that was his seventeen-year old body, and this was his scrawny excuse of a ten-year old's body. Harry felt an itch on his nose, and attempted to scratch it, only to chafe his wrist and have to resort to contorting his face into odd shapes. Suddenly Harry was reminded of a similar situation that Hermione had proposed they try out. The only difference was that the goblins were Hermione, and that the swords were large leather cat o' nine tails. Harry shuddered, partly out of horror and partly out of pleasure, and was suddenly aware of a throbbing problem somewhere below his waist. Embarrassed, Harry furiously attempted to subdue his aching member, only for it to be excited even further. Groaning, Harry closed his eyes and let his head roll back, only to yelp as a bolt of searing pain shot through his abdomen. Looking around, Harry saw nothing but the two goblins murmuring something under their breaths and moving their hands across his body. Putting it to his imagination, Harry relaxed again, only the pain to return, coursing through his veins like a wildfire, making Harry bite his lip and buck like a bronco, still held down. Tears streamed down Harry's face as he felt a feeling similar to spikes shooting through his body, before a freezing feeling overtook it, not the relaxing cool of a glass of cold water, but the agonizing burn of a tongue stuck to a metal pole. Sweat glistened off Harry's skin and saliva suddenly poured into Harry's mouth choking him as he attempted to control his bodily functions. He felt his heart beating uncontrollably, attempting to pound its way out of his chest, then Harry's vision went black. He could still feel his body, and Harry took deep, labored breaths to calm himself to no avail. Mucus poured out of Harry's nose, and he would much rather die now than continue this ritual, but the boy bit down harder on his lip as he forced himself not to scream. The skin of his feet was torn and bruised as Harry kicked, his body twitching and jumping. Harry finally gave in and let out an agonizing howl, before he saw something. The stone ceiling of the ritual chamber. Harry realized that his limbs were unrestrained and looked around, his face flushing when he realized what the white and crusty film that covered his body and the walls was. Looking around, he saw the two medics flung against the wall, deep cracks spreading out from where Harry surmised they had hit. Their swords were embedded to the hilt in the wall, and it was then that he noticed something amiss. The room was dimly lit, yet all of the torches were extinguished. Getting up and looking around, Harry winced when he realized the solid metal door had been blasted off its hinges and straight into the adjacent wall. Scourgifying himself and his clothes, Harry quickly pulled his shirt and pants on and headed out into the hallway. Gasping, Harry bent over to check on the prone form of Ragnok. He had been discarded on the hallway like a doll, and his head was bloodied.

Not knowing what to do, Harry touched Ragnok's forehead, meaning to reenervate him, but was surprised when his hand glowed a soft white and the deep gash immediately closed up and the surrounding bruises healed. "Who are you?" Ragnok croaked, his voice shaky.

Surprised, Harry answered, "Harry Potter." Confused, Ragnok slowly rose and studied Harry's face, before slowly nodding.

"Yes, yes." The goblin rose to his feet and dusted off his ceremonial armor. "It seems, just as the magical backlash was not small, the changes to your physique were not small either." Harry quickly conjured a mirror and jumped back as he saw a visage that only slightly resembled his face. A defined jawline jutted out from a face with refined features, large glistening green eyes placed where they had been obscured by glasses before. Looking away from the mirror, Harry realized he could now see without his glasses quite farther than he could see before with them on. He had lost all of his baby fat, and it made him look more mature. Glancing back at his reflection, Harry gasped as he looked at his hair. It was now dark brown, a deep chocolate color, and what was once untamable was now merely playfully sticking up. Looking back at his face, Harry realized people could no longer say that he looked like the spitting image of his father, rather, he had gained some features of his mother. Some features of his father still remained, but they were overshadowed by something distinctly familiar that Harry could not place. His skin, once pale, was now a healthy tan, and his teeth glistened white. Wondering what could have brought on these violent changes, Harry was suddenly whisked back to his first conversation with Edmund.

_"Ooh, 450. Last couple to score that high, was… hmm." Grabbing the thick leather-bound book he'd left on his desk, he flipped to a different page and wire-rimmed glasses appeared on his face as he skimmed down. Lily Evans and… oh." The Creator looked worried. "Dougal!" The angel flashed into the room and Edmund frantically whispered into his ear, and the angel appeared surprised._

_"At once, master." And the angel flashed away._

_"What was that?" Harry demanded. "What was with my mum and my dad?"_

_The Creator tried to smile. "Nothing of consequence. Any other questions, Hermione?" It was a desperate ploy to change the topic, and it worked._

Harry was now intensely worried. Had his mother had extramarital affairs? Who was she bonded to? Had she been raped by a Death Eater? He looked back at himself. He was no longer extremely skinny, and had developed muscles over the course of what seemed to be a few hours. He flexed his body and noticed that while he wasn't ripped, he certainly couldn't be counted as skin and bone, or chubby. Making a mental note to start working out, he thought about Hermione. Would she even recognize him? Would she love him anymore? Thoughts of her brought pleasant memories of their lovemaking sessions, and Harry groaned as he felt a bulge against his pants, then did a double take. "Merlin, even that got bigger!" Ragnok raised an eyebrow from where he stood in front of him, and Harry realized that he was now 6 inches taller than the goblin, compared to being the same height only hours before. "I think I would to see all of my vaults." Ragnok merely nodded, and stepped inside the chamber to revive the two goblins, before stepping back out to lead Harry back to lobby. They had just turned to leave when a huffing Griphook raced up to them, panting.

"Director, I've just sent the order for everything taken from the any of the vaults owned by Harry Potter to be returned by force. They should be appearing in a few minutes." Ragnok nodded quickly.

"Excellent, Griphook. Your loyalty will be rewarded." Just then, Ragnok snapped his fingers, in remembrance. "Lord Potter," he said, turning to face Harry. "You must appoint a new account manager, seeing the previous is now dead."

Harry stuffed his hands into his pockets, jabbing his pinky on Snape's still form. "Griphook, I guess." The small goblin's face lit up, and he straightened to stand at his full height.

"Of course, Lord Potter."

Ragnok nodded, and started to speed down the hallway at once, forcing Harry to race after him and away from Griphook, who was merrily skipping in the other direction.

Meanwhile in a drafty stone castle:

Albus was worried. Severus had been gone for a long time, and hadn't even floo-called to tell him anything. Nevertheless, he had to eat dinner, and so to celebrate his 36th year as Headmaster, he had pulled out all the stops, dining on glistening china plates with inlaid gold, rumored to have been used by Gryffindor himself. His goblet was designed by one of Helga Hufflepuff's descendants, modeled after her famous cup. The hat he wore was Slytherin's own, and his robes shimmered and glinted, being woven of the finest acromantula silk, having been passed through generations of old families. As Dumbledore smiled at his students through his glasses, charmed to see through every type of enchantment known to the modern Wizarding community, borrowed from James Potter. Just then there were was a loud crack, and Dumbledore looked down. His food was now sitting on the wooden table. Scratching his head, Dumbledore was about to speak, when his goblet disappeared and his mead splashed all over the table. Angry, he stood up to say something, just in time, for his throne-chair thing disappeared as well. "All right, whoever is playing this prank needs to stop now." He glared at the Weasley Twins and scanned their minds, before becoming more irritated. "Who did this?" It as whispered, yet everyone in the hall heard it, the cruel tone scaring them witless. There was another crack, and Albus Dumbledore stood naked, hatless, and not able to see a thing as the Great Hall burst into laughter.

-o-

"WHEEEE!" Harry's shriek of joy echoed through Gringotts' lower levels as Griphook steered the speeding cart down deep into the bowels of the bank. The cart screeched to a halt nearly throwing Harry out, stopping in front of a vault several times larger than the one Harry normally visited.

"The Potter Vault. Vault No. 2254" Harry wrinkled his brow, stepping out of the cart.

"Griphook, if this is the Potter Vault, what is the one I normally visit?"

"If I remember correctly, you've never visited Gringotts before." Harry spluttered like a fish out of water and could not think of an excuse, so wisely shut up. Griphook said nothing after that. The goblin walked up to the massive metal door and placed a hand against it, which turned a large number of tumblers until the vault opened. Harry was awed at the giant mountain of gold, and was reminded of the Lestrange Vault, which reminded him of something else.

"Griphook, tell Ragnok I need to speak to him as soon as he is available." The goblin said nothing, leaving Harry to assume that meant yes. As Harry walked in, Griphook handed him a small black sack and a key.

"The sack is bottomless, free of charge, and the key will return to you if it is lost or taken without express permission." Harry nodded and placed the key in the sack. Turning, he jumped back as numerous items appeared in the vault with a crack. Harry inspected the objects, and then held up a pair of golden half-moon glasses.

"These are Dumbledore's!" Harry exclaimed, then tossed the glasses aside, choosing to examine a red trunk that had appeared with the rest of the items. Turning it, he gasped. _James C. Potter_ was spelled out in gold letters on one side. "My father's trunk," he breathed. "He never said anything about this." Griphook raised an eyebrow. Picking up the trunk, which was surprisingly light, Harry shrunk it and placed it in the sack, before shoveling in a large number of Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts. Turning around, he noticed a shimmer and pulled his father's invisibility cloak off a pile of silver instruments, before he walked out of the vault, watching as Griphook sealed it, before heading back to the cart. Clambering in, Griphook pushed forward a lever, which took them speeding downwards again. Squinting his eyes slightly due to the wind, Griphook pressed a button besides the lever on the cart and turned to look at Harry. "Ragnok has been notified.' Griphook turned again, jerking the lever to the side just in time to avoid tumbling off at the fork in the track. It was not long before the cart stopped again, sparks flying from its squealing stop. "Vaults No. 2124, 2123, and 2122. The Evans, Black, and Selwyn Vaults." Harry found it way too convenient that all were next to each other, but kept his mouth shut. Griphook opened the Evans vault and waited for Harry to go in, handing him another key as he passed, which Harry stuffed into his pouch. Inside the vault, Harry found a little less gold, but significantly more jewelry and other miscellaneous items. Stepping to examine a large jewelry case, Harry was presented with numerous sets of rings. Looking wistfully at a round brilliant two carat stunner, Harry suddenly was hit by a wave of realization. Determined, Harry lifted the case off the jewelry case and browsed for the right ring. His eye was caught by a 1 carat sapphire, surrounded by smaller gems of alexandrite. The entire ring was encircled by a series of emeralds. Harry smiled. It was even in a three-part set, each growing increasingly complex and the gems increasingly larger. Putting the three in boxes, he threw them into the sack before moving on. A portable pensieve winked in the light from a shelf on the wall, and Harry took it down to inspect it. Afraid to shrink it, Harry tried to figure out how to fit it and tried to jam it in the sack, before the mouth of the bag widened and pulled the bowl in. _'Handy,'_ Harry thought, and wandered around to the back of the vault. A green trunk called out to him, and he raced towards it, hopeful. Inspecting the sides, Harry was delighted to find the name Lily Evans though he had to squint, as much of it was covered by dirt and grime. Harry quickly performed a wandless scourgify and stuffed it into his pouch, then raced back out of the vault, ready to go to the next one. Griphook had no more closed the Evans vault and opened the Black one than Harry was zooming around the vault, trying to find anything that related to the only father figure he had ever known. Skirting past some mysterious objects, Harry's eye caught on a silver locket with an S engraved on the front. "Wow. Seriously. This is going to be too easy." Harry placed a stasis charm on the horcrux, resolving to talk with Ragnok ASAP, then resumed his search. Harry struck gold at the back of the vault, when a shiny black trunk stuck out from beneath a unicorn pelt. Paying no attention to the pelt, he flung the fur to the other side of the vault and eagerly inspected the box for any side of the name. Seeing Sirius' name, Harry resolved to break him out of Azkaban if he wasn't out by the start of school. Having gotten what he wanted, Harry turned around and headed out of the vault, waiting for Griphook to close the door before asking him, "Do you handle subscriptions to newspapers?" The goblin answered in the affirmative, so Harry asked, "Could you subscribe me to the Quibbler and the Daily Prophet?" Griphook soured slightly at the mention of the propaganda spreading newspaper, but still nodded. Harry smiled at the goblin's obvious distaste for the Prophet, and continued on to the next vault. Looking into the safe, Harry saw nothing but gold, so did not go in, and merely gestured for Griphook to close it. The trip to the last four vaults was extremely eventful and had Harry ducking below the cart as they dodged puffs of dragon fire and spun into tight corkscrews and dived hundreds of feet. When the cart finally came to a gentle stop, Harry poked one eye above the cart to make sure it was not another trick stop, then breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Griphook looking amusedly at him. Shakily getting out of the cart, he stood for a moment to regain his senses.

"Vaults No. 5, 4, 2, and 1. The Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Gryffindor, and Emyrs vaults." Harry walked up to the first vault, the door showing a metal badger. He waited for Griphook to open it, and after a few seconds, looked back at the goblin, who was still standing by the cart. Harry cleared his throat, and the goblin looked up. "My apologies, Lord Potter. You must press your ring into the impression." Harry stepped forward and pressed his ring into to mold in the vault, and jumped when the badger animated and looked Harry in the eye for what seemed to be a large amount of time, before nodding. Returning to its still state the badger glowed, and the door slid open. There was not a vast amount of money, like some people would have expected. A modest pile of gold sat to the right of the vault. There were no precious family treasures that would grant the user magical powers, save a few rings and a couple of cool looking daggers. What interested Harry was the large portrait of a slightly round brown-haired woman smiling at him.

"Thank goodness, it's so stuffy in here!"

"Helga Hufflepuff?" The woman in the frame curtsied.

"I would appreciate it if you removed me from this vault. It's quite boring staring at nothing at all for centuries." Harry warily removed the painting from the wall, watching as it shrunk itself down to the size to a frame you would place on a table. "Oh, it'll be so nice to talk to people again." The woman murmured in her thick Scottish brogue. "Who are you, dear?"

"Harry Potter." The woman tilted her head.

"You'll have to get me up to date on what's happening then. Oh, I wish I could talk to the other three founders!" The matron smiled wistfully.

"Actually, I'm off to the Gryffindor and Slytherin vaults next, if it's any consolation." Helga clapped her hands.

"I don't suppose you have the portrait of Rowena already. She was my best friend, you know."

"I don't, but I know someone who can get it." The portrait smiled, and Harry gently placed it into the sack.

Looking around the vault and seeing nothing else that was useful, Harry left the vault and watched as the door slid back of its own accord. Checking to make sure the portrait was safely in his pouch, Harry moved to open the vault that had silver snakes running over the entire surface. Harry searched for two minutes, before finally finding the slot to insert his ring. As soon as the ring touched the spot, the snakes began to slither around the surface of the door, before one stopped directly above his hand, its metallic fangs poised to bite down into his hand.

"**Verify!"** it hissed at him, its forked tongue brushing his hand. Harry was suddenly extremely nervous. Edmund had told him there would be no horcrux in his scar when he returned. Could he still speak parseltongue?

"**Open!"** To Harry's relief, the snake retracted, and the door shuddered and slid open. Harry whistled when he saw the contents of the vault. The Slytherin family had not been a poor one. Gold was piled to the ceiling, and gems of various sizes lay in piles, covering half of the floor in the vault.

"Hello boy. What year is it?" Harry jumped when he saw Slytherin's portrait. Orbs of electric blue peered out, attached to a young face, smiling brightly, and not at all like Hary expected.

"You're Salazar Slytherin?"

"Of course!" The man, who looked to be in his twenties, laughed, his black hair shaking. "What did you expect? An old man?" Harry looked away guiltily.

"But you're supposed to be mean and everything!" Harry could not believe such a… he struggled to find the words. Such a nice person could have been Slytherin.

"Mean? Why would Godric Gryffindor be friends with a mean person?" The painting snorted. "You must tell me about what people think about me today. Get me off this wall, will you?" Harry pulled the portrait, and it came loose with a squelch. "That's what you get when you leave permanent sticking charms on for hundreds of years."

Harry still could not believe his ears. "Do you know if there's any paintings of food nearby? I'd enjoy a nice shepherd's pie right now." Not wanting to deal with the painting any longer, Harry stuffed it into the sack and headed on to the next vault. Sticking the ring into the slot, the griffin on the vault stayed put, doing nothing. Harry's ring suddenly warmed up, before the door groaned and slid open. The first thing Harry noticed was a metal sword, with egg-sized rubies embedded all along the hilt.

"So this is where it's held!" Griphook poked his head in and gasped when he saw the sword.

"My lord, if-" Harry held up a hand, remembering goblins' mindset when it came to goblin-made items.

"I will speak to Ragnok about it." The goblin huffed, but otherwise stayed silent.

"The goblins still giving you grief about that, eh?" Harry turned his head, to be faced with a younger image of Gryffindor than people always showed him. It was Godric in his twenties, his flaming red hair flying everywhere.

"In a way." Godric's smile lit up the room, and Harry wondered if paintings could reflect light.

"Just let me talk to them, I'll sort it out." Harry wasn't sure about the idea, remembering the traits Gryffindor was known for, but said nothing and put the painting in his sack. Turning around, Harry saw Griphook waiting patiently, so Harry raced out and headed to the last vault he would visit, and the first vault in Gringotts. Searching the door, Harry found no slot for a ring, but when he touched the door, it rippled and opened similarly to the entrance to Diagon Alley. Looking inside, Harry hoped there was something awesome, barely restrained by the vault and waiting for him, yet the only thing in the vault was a wooden walking stick, curves and bent, strange symbols inscribed along the length of the stick. As Harry approached the hovering stick, he noticed that the butt of the cane was capped with gold, and he now could make out the symbols to be runes. Squinting, Harry barely recognized the ancient symbols, the runes vastly different from the modern runes that he had been taught in the afterlife. Vaguely, Harry recognized one that looked like power, and one similar to mind. Ignoring all the lessons about caution that Hermione had drilled into him over the years, Harry reached out and grabbed the stave. A soft glow appeared around Harry, and a voice spoke in his mind.

'_After fifteen-hundred years, I have finally found a new master.'_ Harry was not surprised, although he was unnerved. After perfecting the 'mind-speak' as Hermione liked to call it, Harry had grown used to voices in his head. But Harry shivered. This was not his Mione's voice. This was different. _'Well? Are you just going to stand there and do nothing? I can hear everything you think, you know."_

Harry focused on the staff, which he guessed to be the one talking, and broadcast his thoughts. _'What are you?'_ The cane quivered under his grip.

'_You needn't shout. This is not the connection between bond-mates. Just think it, and I will hear. As for your question, I am Grym, a powerful stave, famous for being the stave of Myrddin Emyrs.' _Harry jumped as the stave pricked the palm of his hand. Suddenly the runes began to swirl and twist, before the stopped again. _'I possess the memories of all of my wielders, their knowledge, their experiences. You are now my new master. May my power serve you well.'_ Harry felt a presence recede from his mind, and watched as the large cane shrunk to the size of a wand.

"Well, that takes care of a wand." Turning sharply, Harry left the vault and heard shifting as it closed behind him. Nodding to Griphook, he got back into the cart, and groaned when he realized they were going to have to ride all the way up.

30 minute later, Harry sighed with relief as they passed the last dragon and rejoined the main track. The last minutes of the cart ride went smoothly, and Harry was soon in the lobby of Gringotts gain, Ragnok rushing up to him. "If you would follow me to my office, we can talk." Nodding to Griphook, who scampered off, Harry walked after Ragnok, wondering exactly how much more time he was going to spend in the bank. Once again he was led into the small opening at the back of the hall, yet he had yet walked two minutes before Ragnok stopped and opened a plain stone door, gesturing for the wizard to follow him inside. Harry had expected an office similar to Griphook's, but this one was many times larger than the previous room, more like a conference area than an office. The floor was wooden paneled, and Harry could hear Ragnok's shoes click as he walked across the bright surface. Bookshelves made up the walls, and Harry was surprised to see electrical lighting in the ceiling, long with what looked like muggle ceiling tiles. Only the rich mahogany desk was the same, and as Ragnok quickly sat down in his swivel chair, with Harry settling into a fabric-upholstered metal chair, he couldn't help but feel like he was in a muggle bank.

"Not to be rude, but where did you get the idea for this office?" The only thing Harry saw that hinted at this not being a normal office was the stone door in the corner of the office.

Ragnok chuckled. "Yes, this is modeled after a muggle office. Pureblood wizards did not like my stone office, so I changed to this one. They were even less pleased." The goblin shook his head. "If there is anything more worthwhile than devoting our lives to honor and profit for goblins, it is annoying people that are rude to us." He looked at the boy, who now looked more like a young adolescent. "Would you like any refreshments?" Harry couldn't help but think that Alex had been completely wrong about goblins. He had been told they were snarky and out to rip you apart, but they had been nothing but nice.

"Will you be having any?" Ragnok shook his head, and Harry followed suit. The goblin steepled his fingers on his desk.

"What was it you wished to speak about?"

"I was a couple things, actually." Harry recalled Alex's words about goblins and horcruxes, especially that they were extremely touchy about the subject. "The first is the most important." Ragnok looked mildly interested. "I have recently learned that Tom Marvolo Riddle created horcruxes." Ragnok's rapid intake of breath was not a good sign to Harry.

"Horcruxes? Multiple?" Harry nodded, and the Director of Gringotts' face darkened. "Are you aware of the nature of the devices you speak about, Harry?" Harry nodded again, and the goblin frowned. "It is one of our most honored laws that we destroy all of the vile items that we encounter, and destroy all who create them, and those who aid them. We also give any of the items found by wizards to them, as they tend to be valuable treasures." Ragnok looked sharply at the boy. "Who is Tom Marvolo Riddle?"

"Voldemort." The goblin's eyes widened.

"But that means…" Ragnok's whisper was confirmed by Harry. His eyes hardened. "How many did he create?"

"Six." He looked ready to faint. "He plans to create another one to bring the number up to seven."

"What happened to one, then?"

Harry pointed at his scar. "The death of Harry Potter was going to be the sacrifice to create his seventh horcrux, the familiar Nagini. Instead, the death of Lily Potter ripped his soul, and when his Killing Curse was reflected, the soul piece tore off and was driven there." By this time, the goblin had turned deathly white. "Through strength and pain, I have destroyed the soul fragment." Technically true, but not completely true. "I am aware of the six remaining, and have one with me currently. That brings me to my second issue." At that statement, Ragnok's eyes flitted to Harry, looked for any item that could be a horcrux. "I request that Godric Gryffindor's Sword be relinquished permanently to aid in the destruction of the devices." Harry pulled out a black punch and looked towards Ragnok, and when he nodded, pulled out a gleaming sword and a silver locket.

"Lord Potter, how will a sword destroy a horcrux?"

"The sword has basi- ARGH!" Ragnok jumped in his seat, while Harry fumed. _'I can't believe I forgot that the bloody sword hasn't killed Slytherin's basilisk yet.'_ "My apologies, Ragnok, I had assumed something." The goblin nodded warily. "Do you know of any way to destroy a horcrux?"

Ragnok smiled morbidly. "Certainly." The locket swung on its chain and turned to face Ragnok. "I-is that…"

"Slytherin's Locket. Yes." Ragnok whistled.

"Most people do not realize that horcruxes can be destroyed with a simple Avada Kedavra. Those that do consider the spell dark. It is a wand-based spell though, so we cannot cast it. The benefit of the spell, is that it is the only way known to destroy horcruxes without destroying the magical enchantments on an object." Ragnok looked at Harry. "While we cannot assist in the destruction of the devices, I would like to offer Gringotts' help in obtaining the vile pieces of magic. " Harry nodded.

"I accept your generous offer." Ragnok smiled. "There are two horcruxes that I believe to be in Gringotts right now." That smile faded. "Bellaxtrix Lestrange should have Hufflepuff's Cup in her vault currently. Lucius Malfoy is harboring Tom Riddle's Diary. If it is not in his vault, then it's at Malfoy Manor." Ragnok looked ready to murder, and slammed a button on the underside of his desk. Harry just wondered if there were buttons in every room in Gringotts.

"Yes Master Ragnok?" A trembling goblin scampered into the room, bowing deeply and walking at the same time.

"Confiscate the Malfoy and Lestrange vaults!" he spat. "Empty them into the Potter vault. Bring here Tom Riddle's Diary and Hufflepuff's Cup." Before Harry could stop the goblin, he scampered away, leaving Harry with several thousand more galleons of unwanted wealth. "That reminds me, Mr. Potter. You should find tomorrow's Prophet quite interesting, considering one of our associates dropped by to leave a not-so-little tip." For once, Harry was anxious to see the newspaper. "Can you tell me the whereabouts of any other horcruxes?"

"Marvolo Gaunt's Ring, most commonly known as the Resurrection Stone." Ragnok was floored. Never before had a wizard shown as much trust to the Goblin Nation as to reveal the location of one of the famed Deathly Hallows. "It is located in a shack nearby Riddle Manor, in the town of Little Hangleton." Harry thought for a moment. "Ravenclaw's Diadem." Ragnok did not think he could be shocked any more that day, and just numbingly nodded. "Inside Hogwarts, in the one of the versions of the Room of Requirement."

"Lord Potter, I do not believe we can reach that particular soul receptacle." Harry sniggered, thinking of a horcrux like a trash can. "But since you are the heir to three Founders, perhaps you could call it here."

"Call it? How would I do that?" Harry was puzzled.

"Founders' Heirs have long shared a telepathic connection with the school and its interior. Should you be able to call upon the school, you may be able to materialize the Diadem in here."

'_Whoa.'_ These were powers that Harry hadn't even dreamed of having. Closing his eyes, he noticed that he seemed to do a lot of talking to voices in his head nowadays. He focused on the castle, and hesitantly though out, _'Hogwarts?'_

'_**Yes, child?'**_The voice nearly startled Harry out of his seat, vibrating in his head.

'_Can you give me Tom Riddle's horcrux, the Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw?'_

'_**Certainly. I have felt the evil presence of it long enough.'**_Harry could not place the gender of the voice, grating yet smoothing at the same time. Opening his eyes, he noticed he was clutching the aforementioned tiara. Harry placed it on the desk, just as the goblin servant he had seen before burst into the room, sweaty and panting, clutching two of the remaining three horcruxes to be found.

Bowing and crawling again, the goblin set the items on the desk before rushing out of the room, mumbling something about evil and washing his hands. Ragnok was just sitting there, stunned. He had just been informed of six horcruxes, and within two minutes, the young boy in front of him had dealt with one of them personally and was about to do the same with the others. The last one he already knew the place of. And then the wizard displayed enough trust to openly display the Founder's Relics turned horcruxes in front of a goblin, as well as reveal to him the location of one of the Deathly Hallows. Judging by the sorcerous emanations coming from his pouch, he possessed one already. He also held about 1/3rd of the gold in Gringotts, considering that the Malfoy and Lestrange estates now belonged to him. All in all, he was the heir of no less than 8 magical families, and with some Slytherin moves, he could easily gain control of the House of Lestrange and Malfoy. At even better, he wielded the wand of Merlin, who even goblins recognized as great. Yes, Ragnok mused. Harry Potter would be the biggest asset to the goblins yet. A ten-year old boy, sitting innocently in front of him twiddling his thumbs. Ragnok shook his head. Life just seemed to get crazier and crazier.

"Would you like to destroy the horcruxes now?"

"Certainly." Harry pointed his twisted wand at the desk, not concentrating on any of the items in particular. "Avada Kedavra." The spell left a coppery taste in his mouth, and Harry watched in amazement as five bolts of green lightning split from one, striking the horcruxes and leaving them perfectly intact. "Wow. I've never seen it do that before." Ragnok was doing a little jig mentally, thinking of the commission he was going to get.

'_Oh wait,' _he though glumly. _'I don't work on commission anymore. I'm the Director.'_ Ragnok was suddenly jealous of Griphook, who was undoubtedly earning much more than the head of the bank currently.

"I request a boon from the Goblin Nation."

"State it." Ragnok was aware that a boon had not been granted to a wizard or witch in centuries. He was also aware that the boy in front of him had a very high chance of changing that.

"I would like the Founder's Relics to be relinquished permanently to the school of Hogwarts, when the last horcrux is destroyed, so that they can be called upon by their respective houses and any heirs. Of course, Gringotts will be given the credit for finding them." Ragnok smile. The four items were not of any use anyways, since they could not be used by goblins to their full extent, in return, was generating positive publicity.

"Granted." Harry nodded his head in thanks, then swept the four items into his sack, while preferring chuck the other soul receptacle into the nearest waste receptacle. "I will inform you when the last device is found." Harry nodded.

"Another thing I wanted to talk about, was seeing a list of my properties." Ragnok snapped his fingers, and a scroll once again plopped into Harry's lap, and as he unraveled it, began to search for an appropriate place.

**Potter Properties:**

**1 House in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, England**

**1 Apartment in Bristol, England**

**1 Manor in [unplottable], England**

**1 Apartment in Diagon Alley, England**

**1 Cottage in Godric's Hollow, England**

**1 House in Hogsmeade, England**

**1 Villa in Bordeaux, France**

**1 Farm in [unplottable], United States**

**1 Potions Ingredients Farm in Casa de Franchis, Italy**

Each listing was accompanied by an image and address, and as Harry attempted to move down, he realized there were no other listings. "Move my official residence to Potter Manor," Harry said, tapping the image of the brick mansion. Ragnok nodded, scribbling down a note and sending flying off as a paper crane with a wave of his hand. "Can I also see a list of all of my stock holdings?" Ragnok held a roll of parchment out to the wizard, who took it and stuffed it in his looked up. "I'm sorry Ragnok, should I go find Griphook? I understand if you're too busy or something…"

The goblin waved his hand. "Nonsense." As Harry opened his mouth, a silver-haired wizard burst into the room, his cane being waved menacingly at the guards that had attempted to stop him. "Whatever is the problem, Lord Malfoy?" Harry's grinned as he realized what was bothering the senior ferret, as Draco and Narcissa fell in behind Lucius.

The pureblood snarled. "What happened to my vault?"

Ragnok smiled. "We found a dark artifact inside, and in accord to Ministry law, we seized the contents of your vault, Lucius." Harry snorted at the look of rage on Lucius' face, and the tall man turned to face the boy in the chair.

The wizard quickly glanced over Harry, and he stopped at his scar. "YOU!" Harry's eye twinkled. "You brat! You had something to do with this!" Harry said nothing. "_Avad-"_ The guards tackled the wizard as soon as he pulled his wand out and Ragnok smiled, as if he was anticipating this.

"Under Ministry Act 217, we have the power to detain lawbreakers and hand them over to the Aurors. I believe the attempted casting of an Unforgivable on a human is a substantial crime, right, young Malfoy?"

Draco was staring wide eyed as the goblins wrested his father's wand and cane from him, but managed to squeak out, "You will learn to respect your betters." Ragnok clucked his tongue and looked at Lucius' wife.

"Narcissa, I suggest you remove yourself from Lucius' company. He is now a penniless, and about to be jailed." The middle-aged witch's face paled even further, and her she struggled to keep her composure. She stole one glance at the boy who lived, and gasped when Harry willed the Black family ring to appear.

"My Lord," she cried, falling to her knees. Draco gawked at his mother. "Please! Please, I beg of you, dissolve my marriage to Lucius." Harry looked towards Ragnok, who nodded slightly.

Not knowing what to say, Harry felt a presence in his mind, and suddenly uttered, "I dissolve the union between Malfoy and Black." Narcissa sobbed as a soft glow surrounded her, and Harry pondered. _'Mrs. Malfoy was never this emotional when I met her. What happened?'_ When Harry looked back, the witch's hair was no longer streaked with white, and her skin color had become darker. Her eyes no longer were cold and piercing, but softer.

"What did you do to my mother, Potter?" Draco had no wand to point, so he instead attempted to hold out his finger and look threatening at the same time.

Harry's eyes grew dark. "That's Lord Potter Gryffindor Slytherin Hufflepuff Emrys Black Selwyn Evans, to you, scion of Malfoy." Draco staggered back, his arm dropping to his side.

"That's impossible," he breathed.

"What's impossible?" Harry spat. "That I am the heir to multiple houses, or that you are just di-" he bit his tongue, remembering his promise to Hermione that he would be nicer to the ferret.

"Mr. Malfoy," Ragnok said, highly amused. "If your father is jailed for more than 48 hours, his living will shall begin to be executed, and it states that…" Ragnok glanced down for a moment. "Harry Potter is to gain possession of all assets." Draco's eyes bugged out of his head.

"WHAT? That's not possible! ARGH!" As the blonde-haired boy raged, Harry stared ahead, dumbfounded.

Ragnok checked the Will again, holding it up. "This does not look like Lord Malfoy's handwriting, but it bears his seal, meaning it is authentic. I am sorry." Ragnok did not look remorseful at all, and looked humored if anything. Narcissa had begun frantically whispering into Draco's ear, and when she stepped away he bowed his head.

"Lord Black," Draco muttered through clenched teeth, "I would be forever indebted if you were to accept me into your house." Harry snorted, knowing that this was probably paining the bigot. Harry shot a glance at Ragnok through the corner of his eye, who subtly nodded.

"Draco Malfoy, do you agree to be faithful and loyal to the House of Black, and it only?"

"I do."

"You are now Draco Black, scion of the Ancient and Noble House of Black." Draco grimaced. A day ago, he would have killed his father to become a Black. They were of high social standing, and more wealthy and certainly more powerful than the Malfoys. But to be ruled over by a half-blood prick? "You may stay at Malfoy Manor. I shall see to it that a stipend of 1000 galleons a month is set up for the two of you." Harry looked towards Ragnok, who scribbled something down. Sensing they had been dismissed, Narcissa led the seething Draco out. "That was fun."

"Indeed." Ragnok was astounded at the young boy sitting in front of him. No wizard in goblin history had done so much in a year as Harry had done in a day. Moving his hand, Ragnok watched as a silver ring appeared, a snake crawling around on the top, obviously agitated. The goblin held the ring out to Harry, who hesitantly took it and slid it on his finger. The snake glared at him for a few seconds, before the ring was absorbed into the others. "The Malfoy ring bears the enchantment of intimidation. It can be used to project an aura of fear around you, intimidating people into submission." Harry frowned.

"I'm not sure if I like that one."

Ragnok laughed. "If you had anything else?" Harry shook his head.

"I really need to be heading out. I have some business to attend to."

"I shall send you out as quickly as possible then." Harry had just opened his mouth to ask something when he found himself standing on the steps of Gringotts.

"That was bloody fast." Harry took a step down, when he realized people were pointing and staring at him. Puzzled, he smacked his head. "Great. Now I look exactly like the Boy-Who-Lived from the book series." Afraid at the results of casting a Memory Charm on so many people, he quickly cast a glamour charm and a powerful Confundus, sending people walking away from Harry. Confident he would not be recognized, he strode down the steps and began walking across the cobblestone road when he spotted someone. A bushy haired girl dragging along two confused Muggles, heading towards Flourish and Blotts. "I'm sure I forgot a book on the list Mum!" Harry smiled. Hermione's ruse had worked perfectly, and he found himself rushing towards the group as fast as his legs could carry him. "Hermione!" Harry felt her piercing stare as she attempted to recognize one of the many false identities she had created for him.

"Harry!" All the wizard could see was brown as Hermione wrapped her arms around him, crushing his body to hers. "I missed you. You can drop the glamour now, I've cast a notice-me-not charm." They had no sooner pulled apart when Harry was faced with a raging man.

"Who the bloody hell do you think you are?" the passersby's eyes skipped over the red-faced Muggle, who was now holding Harry by his neck.

"Daddy!"

"You think you can just attack my precious daughter like that?"

"Mum, do something!" Harry was caught between fear of knocking Hermione father out, and fear of being choked to death. "Stupefy!" The tall man crumpled to the ground, and Harry sucked in labored breaths.

"Hermione! What on earth possessed you to do that?" Harry pulled himself up and saw who he assumed to be Hermione's mother confronting her.

"But mum!" Harry shakily stood up, his neck red, and sighed as he felt Hermione's presence in his mind assert itself, their bond reforming.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Granger?" The woman turned her head, to look at the boy, and Harry immediately knew where Hermione had gotten her looks from. "It appears that I am the root of this problem, but I suggest that you calm yourself down." The older woman visibly relaxed, and Harry's ring softly glowed.

"Yes, of course."

"Let me introduce myself, I'm Harry Potter." He let the glamour drop, and Hermione gasped.

"You aren't Harry!" the girl rushed up all training forgotten, and began punching him. "Where's Harry?" she shrieked, her mother still under the ring's spell.

'_Hermione!'_ the girl winced at the sheer volume of his voice. _'I'm Harry. Can anyone else talk to you like this?_' Hermione looked away from where Harry lie after she tackled him, and Harry gently took her chin and turned her face towards him. _'I'm Harry.'_ Hermione looked into the boy's emerald green eyes and immediately knew, and she broke down.

"I'm so sorry for doubting you." She cried. Harry felt awkward, but allowed her to cry on his shoulder and patted her back. _'Geez, why is everyone so emotional? Was it like this all the time before Voldemort?'_ Hermione pushed herself away. "How'd you get like this though?" Harry shrugged.

"It just sort of happened, after my core was unbound." Hermione to brush her tears away and giggled, which was music to Harry's ears. "I mean, I understand if you preferred what I lo-" Hermione silenced him with a kiss, tender and not at all like those they exchanged normally.

"No. As long as you're Harry, nothing else matters." Harry felt shivers travel up and down his spine as the eleven-year old whispered into his ear. "Although I'm looking forward to seeing your new _wand._" Harry blushed as Hermione picked through his dealings at Gringotts, bringing that particular memory to the forefront.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Robert Granger had awoken, and he was not a happy camper.

"Daddy! That is no way to talk to my husband!" Robert fainted immediately. Hermione looked sternly at Harry. "That doesn't mean I don' t want a wedding and a ring." Harry laughed and picked Hermione up, spinning her around, before setting her down and getting on one knee.

"Hermione Granger, of the twenty-seven years I've known you, you've never failed to astound me every day with your sheer brilliance and compassion." The girl in question flushed. "Even now, in your eleven-year old body, I'm still super horny for you." Hermione swatted him.

"Prat."

Harry reached into his pocket. "Hermione Granger, will you agree to someday remarry me?" Hermione laughed.

"Of course, stupid!" Harry slid the silver ring on her left middle finger and she gasped. "Oh, Harry! I saw it in your memories but I didn't know it looked like this!"

"It was worth it." Seeing Hermione open her mouth, he hurriedly said, "No, I can't take it back. Jewelry should be worn, not left to collect dust."

"That reminds me, I need to go to Gringotts."

Harry groaned.


	6. AN: Not Abandoning

**AN: As we prepare to enter a new year, One Last Chance will be undergoing a major overhaul as I clean it up and take a closer look at some of the suggestions that you readers have sent me. Fear not, I refuse to abandon this story, but I feel that I need to revise a few places in order to continue writing. Also, if anybody could recommend their superb beta-reading skills, it would be greatly appreciated.**


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